My friend Catherine got engaged to her boyfriend Tito on Xmas Eve. Tito is Puerto Rican and when they went to tell his mother on Xmas day at a family holiday party, she refused to say anything or acknowledge this news. That is until, more guests arrived and she started making toasts and declaring, "Congratulate me! I'm going to have a grandson!"

And

Number 11: to plan a wedding (mine or somebody else's!)

I am adding to the list of new year's resolution:

Number 9: to not underestimate myself in any/all regards
Number 10: to call bullshit when I see it

I received in the mail from my wonderful publisher an Arthur Sze broadside packaged in cardboard with the following note:

Just in time
all over again
Hatsugama

Hatsugama, or "first kettle", the poetic name in Japanese for the new year. Indeed!

Some new year's resolutions:


1. live right livelihood
2. reckoning with the tribe
3. practice more compassion
4. practice right speech
5. finish the sports poems
6. write a short story
6. go on a spiritual retreat
7. make informed choices
8. get rolfed (tune-up)

We've seen a whole slew of great movies in the past few weeks: 21 Grams, Rabbit Proof Fence, Far From Heaven.. tomorrow all day at the movies (K says "what'd you do with the real Shin Yu?" - I am both in the mood to procrastinate on teaching apps and to veg, me not working is a very bizarre idea) to see Mona Lisa Smile and Cold Mountain. Dim sum for brunch and shabu shabu for dinner in Chinatown!

Lately reading manuscripts from 2 friends from the Art Institute of Chicago. "General Skies" by Beth Snyder and "corpus twenty seven" by folade mondisa speaks-love. Both manuscripts are absolutely brilliant and someone should publish these poets, like tomorrow, as they would greatly enhance the list of any press. folade's book explores the work of Jean Michel Basquiat and her ancestral, cultural and creative lineage as an African-American woman. The work blurs the boundaries between visual and textual.

Just received in the mail from La Alameda Press Michael Rothenberg's new book "Unhurried Vision", a beautifully designed book bearing the image of a Diebenkorn painting on the cover. The book documents a year in the life of Rothenberg, 1999, the year when Philip Whalen, poet and former Abbot of the SF Zen Center, became terminally ill and Rothenberg began taking care of him.

In today's junk mail, received a credit card offer from Bank One in Chicago with a 7.99% APR which is pretty damn low. I am considering cancelling my credit card which has a much higher APR and which financially benefits my undergraduate alumni institution. K and I got into a discussion about credit cards - well Bank One is evil, and if I were ever to sign up again for a credit card that would benefit any particular alumni institution, it would definitely be Naropa. In fact, I think that the image on the credit card should be the 8 spoked wheel of samsara - the wheel of death and rebirth and suffering that we are trying to get off of. Chew on that whenever whipping out that card to charge a new pair of leather boots and satisfy that craving and never-ending desire for things, more things. K pushed it a step further and proposed cards for all of the Buddha families - like a red padma card for those purchases that you can't live without. Green karma card for those airplane tickets and big trips. White buddha card when you have achieved "limitlessness"...

Got off work at 11 this morning, picked up new T pass, zafu cushion for Xmas present for Huan-Wen, lunch at Zathmary's than on home. K surprised me with an early Xmas gift, a silver locket from Tibet bearing the image of a canopy. When I popped the locket open, I found several white and orange seeds - chamae. The store keeper explained to K that these seed are traditionally given to pilgrims who go to visit His Holiness the Dalai Lama.

You could express dignity and mindfulness in whatever you do, but in a work of art the whole thing is very condensed. For instance flower arranging and making a brushstroke are unique and absolutely real. You could actually sum up the history of your life in one stroke - that's possible. In your life in general, you never make such a comment as you make in one stroke of the brush, in one flower arrangement, or in one line of poetry.

- Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche

The final Lord of the Rings installment was not as heart wrenching as I thought it would be. Orlando Bloom had very little screen time though Viggo Mortenson had a fair share. I must be the last person on the planet to discover that Mr. Mortenson is also a practicing poet and photographer (cover story of this month's Vanity Fair!) and is partners in Perceval Press. Also he was once married to the fabulous Exene Cervenka.

Breadloaf Guidelines now available...

GrolierPoetry@cs.com
Date: Tue, 16 Dec 2003 10:24:09 EST
Subject: Grolier Poetry Book Shop, Cambridge, MA

Dear Friends:
Please accept my apologies for this intrusion. It
seems most likely that the Grolier will close within a month if the
present financial situation cannot be resolved. In order to raise
some much needed cash, a 15% discount on all backstockis being offered
throughout December ; I hope both of us will benefit from it.

Thanks for reading this.
Louisa

Your element is Air. You are an artistic person
with a unique sense of style. You are
intelligent; although prone to wonder in
thought which, prevents you from paying full
attention to most things, constantly active and
most likely like to sing. Constantly moving the
air is a force of nature. One moment you can be
a breeze the next a tornado.


What's your element
brought to you by Quizilla

No surpise..


You are a Folkie. Good for you.


What kind of Sixties Person are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Survived yesterday's root canal. Whew!

Head and shoulder are recovering nicely. Kort went to the grocery store and brought home these new band-aids from Curad which promote healing and prevent scars. The whole thing is sticky, like the ends of a regular band-aid are and they are flesh-toned and slightly transparent. Where the band-aid lays over the wound, a weird cloudy bubble forms, the medicine in the band-aid going active. The box says that these strips maintain the skin's natural moisture levels and protect from dirt, water, etc. They seem to heal the wound from the center outwards. The one problem with these band-aids is when they get removed/changed, the whole thing is sticky which can mean tearing off bits of skin and rewounding. Ugh!

Moving on..

From the Naropa alumni list serve:

If you haven't already heard, Share International
( http://www.share-international.org ) put out a Press Release
about the man supposed to be Saddam Hussein who is in custody:

--------
Share International news release no. 66, December 2003
Saddam Hussein?
A story calling for investigation

In a news release sent to media worldwide on 8 April 2003 we published our
information that Saddam Hussein had been injured in the first bombing of
Iraq on 20 March 2003 and died two days later from his injuries.
So who has now been captured by American forces?

In our view certainly not Saddam Hussein but an obvious stand-in, of whom we
understand there are at least three: two cousins and a close friend all with
similar family characteristics. We believe he is the same man — a cousin —
seen on Iraqi television on 4 April 2003, who picked up a child and laughed
and waved to the crowds. His body language was completely different from
that of Saddam Hussein. The end of his nose was much broader than that of
Saddam and he had moles on his temple and forehead — identical with the
captured person. At that time commentators were perfectly ready to question
the identity of the man seen on video. Now everyone seems conveniently to
have dropped any enquiry or second thoughts.

The Americans claim that DNA samples taken from the captive relate to that
of Saddam Hussein. How do they know? With what are they comparing them? In
any case, a cousin would obviously share some of Saddam’s genetic features.
>From the beginning of the Iraq conflict the proven lies from this US
administration, particularly about the weapons of mass destruction, give
little confidence that their information should be believed.

We are convinced that eventually the truth will emerge — that this confused
man now captured is not Saddam Hussein, but a double who may well have been
part of a plot to keep the fact of Saddam’s death from the Iraqi people for
as long as possible.

-----------

Here is a link to the video of Saddam on shown on Iraqi television on April
4, 2003 where he walks in a crowd and holds a baby.
http://www.cbsnews.com/htdocs/america_at_war/target_iraq/video_saddam.html

A still shot of the same thing:
http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2003/04/04/iraq/main547815_popup0_1.shtml

Saddam in 1971 (no mole on the temple)
http://wwwimage.cbsnews.com/images/2003/12/14/image588449x.jpg

Saddam in 1991 (still no mole on the temple)
http://wwwimage.cbsnews.com/images/2003/12/14/image588466x.jpg

"Saddam" in custody side view:
http://wwwimage.cbsnews.com/images/2003/12/14/image588402x.jpg

"Saddam" in custody side, front view:
http://www.cbsnews.com/elements/2003/12/14/iraq/photoessay588410_0_10_photo.
shtml
Reports of Saddam hurt circa March 20 (corresponds to the SI press release)
http://abcnews.go.com/sections/world/World/iraq_saddam_030321.html

For those that love details/history:
http://www.nationmaster.com/encyclopedia/Possible-death-of-Saddam-Hussein

The perfect Xmas gift for me at black lava clothing in response to anyone who has ever looked at me and any of my companions as either my chaperone or escort - "I will not love you long time" .

Also cute-T's at ALAG. I like their classic T and the Girls are Greater than Boys.

We rented a German flick last night called "Mostly Martha" which is less about cooking (what the preview hints at) and more about a sense of home and family and what love looks like. Possible alternative career tracks I am contemplating for the new year:

- gourmet chef
- massage therapist
- educator
- luftmensch

On yesterday's commute I had the luck of eavesdropping on a lovely lovely conversation between a young musician named Uwal (?) (means tributary - and also the name of Cain's grandson who was the 1st musician in the Bible) and 2 Latvian ladies in their late 60s/70s. The ladies talked about secret recipes for making gefilte fish and Uwal invited them to a gefilte fish making party and they exchanged phone numbers on the spot. Uwal asked the ladies, do you see the world in music or in color? Music, one woman replied, ice cream is a symphony. Uwal replied , "My mother uses salt, pepper, and paprika, [her basic ingredients], the way that painters use red, blue and yellow."

Contemplating a new career....

Pedro Meyer on his latest project..

On my lunch break visited Horai San metaphysical book and giftstore in Brookline Village to shop for meditation cushions. The owner was playing a tape of the Hare Krishna mantra which reminded me of local Hare Krishna temple on Comm. Ave. The Krishnas make the best vegetarian fare around and offer a free dinner on Sundays with a lecture of the Gita. Back in Dallas, Kort and I liked to go to the local Krishna restaurant, Kalachandi's. Serving tamarind tea and yummy daily specials. "Chant and be happy".

Just finished reading Meera Nair's collection of short stories Video. It's a well-written but strange collection of narratives. Stories set in India dealing with relationships within families, love relationships. Bathrooms are a recurring motif in 2 of the stories. The opening story, Video, was most striking.

Picked up a bunch of writings on photo theory and need to delve into this reading material.

Also trying to get my head around "public art", i.e. what is it exactly? How does it differ from other sorts of art? What are the issues encountered in making it?

The weekend was a wash and today I am home in bed recovering from the flu. Had annual eye exam on Saturday morning. My clinician in an attempt to get me to authorize dilation told me horror stories about Retinal Detachment. The main things to avoid are airbags and eye trauma, like a punch to the eye. Apparently, baby-shaking as an infant can also cause this problem. Went home and slept most of the day. Yesterday morning K and I went over to Watertown diner for brunch than came back to the apartment. I had plans to go to a salon at Charles Coe's house but decided to stay home which was a very good idea. Vomited most of the remainder of the day followed by passing out, falling and hitting my head, and cutting my shoulder open. Way too much excitement for one day. How did I ever survive when I lived alone? Now that I know what the signs of retinal detachment are, I will be sure to look for them, though it's not like I could possibly deal at the moment...

I finally commit to buying a holiday card for this year's mailing to loved ones. This year's card bears the image of Wallace and Gromit. Wallace wears a Santa suit and beard and kneels next to Gromit who wears a cow bell dangling from his dog collar. Santa Wallace holds a paintbrush dipped in red paint which he uses to transform Gromit into Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer with the help of a rake positioned behind Gromit's head to create the effect of reindeer antler.

A note from my lovely and wonderful publisher, JB Bryan:

Happy Bodhi Day!
(where the only present is presence)

"Just after his enlightenment, as told by Thich Nhat Hanh in Old Path White
Clouds, Buddha has a conversation with his bhikkhus about the ritual of
ordination. It would seem logical to extend this sentiment about one kind of
ritual to other ceremonies . . .

'Bhikkhus, please listen. We are totally free, not bound by anything.
You understand the path now . . .. Walk as free persons and share the Way of
Awakening with others. Please sow the seeds of liberation and enlightenment
to bring peace and joy to others.'

One uses a wealth of symbol, tradition, legend and example toward the goal
of attaining freedom for oneself by incorporating these examples into one¹s
personal practice. Teachers and traditions will point the way, but it is as
The Dalai Lama says:

'At the heart of Buddhism lies the idea that the potential for awakening
and perfection is present in every human being and it is a matter of
personal effort to realize that potential.'

This would apply to every choice in life including choices about holidays.

Equivalence got its first review, and a deeply insightful one at that. Thanks to Joyelle McSweeney!

Ventured out into the snow yesterday to buy much needed snow boats. Over 7 years in snowy climes and this is my first pair of "practical" shoes. I am getting too old for looking fashionable at the expense of having cold feet or losing balance.

My friend Larry Lee is curating a show. Here is the call...

CALL FOR ENTRIES

“Coming Soon…”

An art exhibit at the Gene Siskel Film Center
in conjunction with the 9th Annual Asian American Film Showcase
for April 2004

Looking for 2D artwork that explores the influences and impact of film globally and Hollywood specifically on Asian and Asian American culture and vice versa through the eyes of Generation X and younger.

The role film as a whole plays through moving images and spoken words in shaping ideas of the American or European mythos is inescapable. Ideologies of who represents the hero or heroine and what is the perfect or imperfect society abound, propagated by the directorial and sometimes auteuristic visions reflecting if not determining the prevailing moods of the people, place or times. But beyond the politics of representation is the worn terrain where these tropes of stereotypes still reign. So how do these issues translate for the so-called second baby boom wave fluent in pop cultural language and mass media savvy? Given their sense of the postmodern, what are the effects on their world within this context? The artwork within this show not only harbingers another outlook borne of computers, anime, MTV and digital technology, but just as importantly invites viewers attending the film festival to further narrow the gap between art, life and cinema.

The work must be two-dimensional primarily. Due to particular restrictions imposed by the Film Center, only works which can be technically hung on the wall will be considered, allowing with some latitude interpretations of what is 2D or 3D. The postmark deadline for submission is January 31, 2004 .

Submissions should contain the following materials:
· 3-5 labeled slides (name, title, size, media, date) maximum with slide description sheet
· statement of work (or proposal if new work)
· contact information (please include phone number and email)
· SASE with adequate postage for slide return

DO NOT SEND ORIGINAL ARTWORK

Please send application packages to: Foundation for Asian American Independent Media c/o Larry Lee, 7455 North Rockwell, Chicago, IL 60645-1439

Digital submissions gladly accepted via email as jpeg attachment.
Please send to: larry@faaim.org

For more information, contact Larry Lee at llee.21stcentury@rcn.com

Had a talk with Kort tonite about Xmas and what it means to me this year. It's December 3 and usually I have a good start on my holiday cards by now, but this year, truly un-inspired to make effort. Just a handful of handwritten notes to friends and family and I have no desire at all to go shopping at all (sad but true!). Kort and my gift to one another are to pool our funds and to renovate the sun room into the tea room that we have wanted for some time. At a basic level, it will mean acquiring some tatami mats, though I am picturing getting rolls of handmade paper and covering the faux panel wood walls. Perhaps washing down the windows, buying a kensui for tea and any other details. The gift of committing to our own practice, every day, right here, right now.

A continuation of the sports poems project....

P.E.
there is something
for everyone and for
everyone else
there is

running or jumping
in place a basic
knowledge of the body’s
locker room

unlettered sweatshirts
and white crew socks
rubber shoes and rubber
pants’ed again, show

your school spirit or
just your undergarments
dirtying the parquet floor
of the gymnasium

on a rainy day,
the school colors are
grey as any prefab notion of
taught “fitness”

a sense of team or
tribe, it’s cannibals
and rats who delight
in eating their own

I think that Au Bon Pain and New England Soup Factory would increase their sales if they offered a MISO soup option - veg friendly and a good choice for the lactose intolerant.

Our friend Terri Czepiel is dancing in the following performance on Fri/Sat. Support modern dance! Check this out!

AFTER THE FALL
an evening of Multi-Media Dance Theater

Choreography/Multi-Media by Jamie Jewett
Animation/Multi-Media by Aaron Henderson
Text by Thalia Field
Music by Jeff Wallman & Tim Quigley

December 5th and 6th
Green Street Studios
185 Green Street (Central Square)
Cambridge, MA 02139

Call 617.864.3191 for tickets ($15 each)
www.lostwax.org

Back to my obsession with adolescence, sports, and the body, in thinking about seeing folks at the reunion this weekend - it seems to me that if you weren't into sports, you were left to fulfill your physical requirement in P.E. P.E. was sort of a sad class for the non-gifted - having spent 2 years in P.E. before joining the tennis team - it was the minimum requirement - and mostly it involved suiting up and sitting around on the blacktop. Perhaps the occasional calisthenic exercise. Once in a while there might be a volley ball game or a game of horse on the basketball court. It taught me nothing about being in the body and I'm somewhat confused about its place in "physical education".

I have a memory of being in junior highschool in Mr. Bailey's P.E. class. Mr. Bailey was this hot young thing - crewcut short shorts, no older than 30 when we were kids. Ultimately he ended up coaching P.E. at the highschool and married a former student. He used to yell loudly and had a silver whistle he would blow on liberally to get people's attention. I remember (not) learning the high jump in his class. He modeled the form of it for us, first by demonstrating at full speed, and than by pretending to run up to the bar and slowing down his actions, showing how the right leg is thrown over the bar before the left hip follows through and than you are over. When my time came to show what I had learned, I ran directly into the bar, much to my embarrassment. Conceptually I got the idea, but seeing something done, doesn't mean living with that knowledge and integrating it on a somatic level. Mr. Bailey chuckled and really I couldn't blame him. The kids in P.E. were a very motley and unskilled crew, very disconnected on a body-mind level.

I have been thinking a lot since this weekend of the notion of "tribe" - what it means to be born into a tribe that doesn't fit. How we make peace with that tribe.

Had fun on Doug's show last nite. We even had a phone-in question- a nice caller who asked "how can I improve my poetry". A big question. Doug asked me about how being Asian American informs my work and the dreaded question - do you make a living off of your work. Sigh. Provocative questions and an engaging dialogue. I've been interviewed in my life a few times now, and have become exceedingly self-conscious of how issues of assimilation and culture are dealt with, but very satisfied with last night's conversation.

Tune in tonite to Somerville Public Access TV at 5 p.m. Poet to Poet with Doug Holder and special guest Shin Yu Pai.

Rainbow: You have a chameleon aura. You know how
to adapt to your environment. You are usually
happy and few things in your life can change
this, at least not for very long. You love
life and all the challenges it has to offer
you. You are quite the enigma to other people,
but think you are really quite simple. You
could care less about money or material things
and, in fact, think they get in the way of
happiness.
You sometimes suffer from insomnia.
Secret emotion: Confusion and Passion


What color is your aura?
brought to you by Quizilla

Another reading from Equivalence:

December 5, 7 p.m. at the Brookline Booksmith: Gary Duehr and Shin Yu Pai.

Can anyone recommend a good endodontist? I spent Wednesday morning in the dentist's chair for a root canal. After 10 anesthesia injections, we declared failure and rebooked. Allowed injection into the bone, but protested when he suggested "drilling through and injecting the nerve". You gotta be kidding. Maybe all the crying threw us both.

Someone from Slovenia is reading the Pillow Book!

10 year reunion report: I beat out the "I sell panties and bras" nominee for "most unusual job" award with "published poet". (I had a great cheering section) Poetry triumphs! But actually, being a writer didn't seem to be all so unusual, considering that 2 other folks up on the stage were a "writer" and a "writer/artist/grad student".

"Fork lift operator" could be code language for exotic dancer.

Also won for "traveled the farthest" cateogry.

Felt rather sheepish/with mixed feelings to win what felt like the new "popularity" contest. The craving to be "liked" never goes out of style much as I would like it to, but than neither does "authenticity" - the topic of an old-new friend, Minerva Gomez's PhD dissertation.

You don't eat pancakes for breakfast?! I thought you guys were Buddhists!

The 2 sushi restaurants in the neighborhood of my job were both randomly closed today at 12 noon. Sigh.

At the post office, Debbie the clerk, tried to get my attention as I cashed out at the station next to her. I looked up and she said, "That's him. Abe." I blanked for a good five seconds, until she said "Abelardo. Morrell". Like a schoolgirl with stars in her eyes I turned around to a tall, white haired bespectacled man smiling slightly and said rather lamely "I love your work. It's totally amazing!"

David Byrne loves Powerpoint.

Kort and I are on a movie rental kick. Last night's movie was "Down with Love" starring Ewan MacGregor and Renee Zellweiger in a Doris Day/Rock Hudson tribute movie exploring the battle between the sexes. David Hyde Pierce starred as Ewan/Rock's Tony Randall. And Tony Randall actually made a cameo appearance as the CEO of a big NYC publishing house. In general, the movie seemed well cast, though the chemistry between Ewan/Rock and Renee/Doris didn't seem as magical as that between the original Rock and Doris. Ewan doesn't have quite the same body type and seemed to slink around a little more. I think George Clooney might have been quite good in the role, given his performance as Miles Massey in Intolerable Cruelty. Renee had that whole Doris pout going on and the wardrobe/costuming for the movie was just great. During the closing credits, Ewan and Renee do a song and dance number that is quite excellent. What a fun movie!

Mark Lamoureux gave a brilliant reading on Friday night. Buy his new book City/Temple from UDP... beautifully letterpressed in a golden ratna yellow brilliant as flower pollen.

Went to see Gus Van Sant's Elephant over the weekend. The movie touches briefly on one theory of why Columbine occurred - violent video games and the availability of guns over the internet. Also, absent parents. I was totally psyched to go and see this movie and than when we were actually watching it, though it was very photographically beautiful and well shot, the pace of the movie was hard to sustain at times. The camera follows several characters from behind as we eavesdrop on teenage conversations. It reminded me of how very depressing and oppressive highschool can be. One girl, Michelle, particularly captured my attention. She was very physically shut down, quiet, and wouldn't wear shorts in gym class. The best guess I can make is that she was hiding signs of abuse, maybe bruises or other injuries. Benny had a very short role that began with his introduction during the shootings. He helped to get students out of the building and was about to take out one of the shooters when the kid turned around and plugged him. The "violence" against Alex, one of the kids who goes bad, seems pretty senseless- I'm not at all clear on why he is the victim of spitballs and peer hatred, except that's just the way it is sometimes. Why did he warn John to not go in the building? Maybe because John too was a loner. John did the best he could do in that situation, which was to tell others not to go in the building. Interesting to think of what one would do in that kind of situation.

Protector


The ULTIMATE personality test
brought to you by Quizilla

Achin' To Be - Maybe the most depressing
Replacements song. You need some professional
help.

"She closes her mouth to speak and
Closes her eyes to see
Thought about an' only loved
She's achin' to be
Just like me"


What Replacements Song Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

The cover for Carol's book is a painting by John Yau's wife, Eve Ascheim. It seems like a perfect fit for "The Lightning Field". Abstract marks against a white canvas.

My reading with Arthur Sze yesterday was quite possibly the highlight of my year. Sadly, Carol, Arthur's wife, had to cancel at the last minute. Their 4 year old daughter, Sarah, developed a fever and she was too sick too travel so Carol decided to stay behind. The reading took place at Simmons College in a huge conference room with ceilings so high I felt lost. There were hundred of students and faculty and I was very nervous and stammered and stumbled over words. Some things never change.

To hear Arthur read his work is to revel in the beauty that is poetry. He read pieces from his collected poems, translations from The Silk Dragon and closed with a wonderful elegiac piece called "Earth Shine" for one of his colleagues at IAIA who commit suicide very suddenly. Years ago, Arthur lost another dear poet friend, I think his name was Gu Chung. I watch the way Arthur engages with the world, the way he answers a question from the audience, how at ease he is with the world, and in his work, and I learn so much about how I would like to engage in this world. The language of science, symbols from classical Chinese art and literature, the heart breaks open with every word.

Carol's new collection, The Lightning Field, looks really amazing too. The piece is based on a trip that she and Arthur took to Walter de la Maria's environmental installation out in Quemado, New Mexico. To visit the site, you call a # (its a DIA sponsored project) and you drive as far as Quemado. The caretakers of the installation than pick you up where you leave your car. They drive you around back and forth over remote roads to disorient you and than take you to the site, a cabin that can sleep 8 people. You are left at the site for 48 hours. No phone, no interruptions, no contact with the world. The site has several lightning poles installed and is the most interesting when lightning strikes, although on Arthur and Carol's trip, lightning only struck in the distance.

I cry easily. Today at the dentist's office, I burst into tears when he hit the interior chamber of my 14th tooth, as he dug away an old filling. After evaluation and assessment, it will cost me a grand total of $4,000+ to save this little molar, factoring in a little periodontal surgery. The word surgery definitely makes me cry. Bawl hysterically actually. Feeling a little heartbroken at the moment.

Reading tomorrow:

Arthur Sze, Carol Moldaw, and Shin Yu at Simmons College. 300 The Fenway. 11:00 a.m. -12:30 p.m.

An old friend at Naropa once randomly said to me, before I ever had plans to move to Chicago and leave Boulder and before she really knew me, "I could see you living in Texas." I wonder now if she weren't at least somewhat clairvoyant about the future.

On the bus ride to and from, finished 2 books:

Samantha Lan Chang's Hunger
and
Dorothy Allison's Bastard out of Carolina

Chang's Hunger resonated for me more than Tan's work. Like Tan, Chang explores the relationship between 2nd generation Chinese Americans and their immigrant parents, but in her work there seems to be less redemption, reconciliation for her characters. Whereas reading Tan's work, I felt the narratives were interesting and I was learning something about the stories and experiences of her specific characters, with Chang's work, I feel like I learned something about the universal experience of loss and love, touching in to some of my own experiences as a 2nd generation American.

Bastard out of Carolina - I read the whole book cover to cover and was knocked out by the writing, the story, the characters. Totally amazing.

I liked the feel of Saratoga Springs itself as a town. This part of NY state is called "The North Country" according to the bus schedules. I like this regional name, as it makes me think of Bob Dylan's song, "Girl from the North Country". There are a great many more bars in the town, more than Peterborough had anyway. I walked the 1.5 miles from my hotel past the empty horse racing tracks to the art colony of Yaddo and was shocked at what I saw and felt. The Yaddo gardens are the only area open to the public but from the main lawn, there is a terrific view of the main house, the original house in which the Trask family who built Yaddo lived, a greying and decaying austere old mansion towering over the grounds. The main house where apparently the administration runs the colony during much of the year. As I walked up the long road from the entrance to the grounds up to the public garden, it did not feel so different than MacDowell at first. Forest and creeks, absolute quiet, not a soul around. But upon seeing the main house, the only way I can put it is that I got a really bad vibe. That sounds totally "L.A.", but the place felt lonely, cold, and privileged in the worst most disconnected and disengaged sense. When I talked to one of the townies, a massage therapist at the Crystal Spas, later about my impressions, she said, well that's it, it's not a colony, it's a place where people go to be alone and work really hard on their art. Hmmmm.... that in combination with some of the snob and snub stories I heard from Laura Hendrie about some of the New Yorkers she encountered while at the colony sort of fill out the picture, not so much a community of working artists so much as a retreat situation.

What stays with me about MacDowell and its magic is that it was built on love - the love of Marion for her composer husband Edward. The old barn which they renovated, the first log cabin that still stands on the grounds, a gift to her beloved. Their graves on the land itself, where they lie side by side. The land a product of a dream and hope fulfilled.

Someday I will make compile together all the silly things people have said to me that are related in some part or another to my race - the most recent quotes to make this work in progress are:

"You look like you're 10" (not meant in terms of my literary quality either!)

"How come you Chinese people don't date the brothers?"

Back from Saratoga Springs. Saratoga is a cute little town - bigger than Peterborough, NH but smaller than Boulder, Colorado. On the main road running thru town, Banana Republic and Gap moved in 3 years ago, a sure sign of development. I stayed at the Grand Union Motel, a block away from the Greyhound bus station which is attached to the town diner.

I was happy with the outcome of the reading and talk. The library in Saratoga coordinates a monthly series which invites published writers to come and give a reading of their work and to choose and dicuss a book (other than their own) as part of their Great Books Program. The regulars who attend this program reminded me very much of my old docents in Dallas. All women, nearing retirement, if not already retired, highly educated, cultured, and intelligent folk. Some of the ladies hated Amy Tan's The Bonesetter's Daughter (likening it to Hollywood tripe) and others were deeply moved. I found myself defending Tan's work, not surprisingly, though I have my own issues with her work, I do feel that she has been an important voice in Asian American literature and her stories about women are compelling. It is true however, perhaps, that she had a little less aesthetic distance from this book, as so many of the issues in the book were lifted from her real life. Amy Tan has had her fill of suffering - losing her brother and father within months of each other to brain tumors. Her grandmother committed suicide in front of her mother by swallowing raw opium. Her mother herself hid secrets from her for many years, a 1st husband in China, the family name... so many secrets.

Dreams are easily forgotten unless they are written down.

I had 2 very interesting dreams while in Taiwan. On the first day, I dreamt that I was calling one of my teachers and when the answering machine clicked on, it was the voice of Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche from the grave. I don't think he had any special message for me, I think he said: leave a message. Dream number two involved my friend Whiting Tennis giving me a refresher in meditation. I was visiting his apartment in New York which he happened to be rehabbing and he said, slow down and remember how to breathe. He walked me thru the steps and I woke up feeling refreshed like I really knew how to breathe again.

My site meter tells me that someone from www.injuryatsea.com has been reading this blog. What an interesting company. Right now it makes me think of Russell Crowe and his epic new film which I will most certainly not be running out to sea. The papers have been flooded with reviews and write-ups of Mr. Crowe's latest. I've thought that he was creepy ever since his much publicized affair with Meg Ryan. Incidentally, Crowe used to sing in an '80s New Zealand pop band. Maybe I would like him better if he had pursued a musical career instead of one in the film industry.

Seems like Brookline has many a famous photographer frequenting the post office in the Village. I shipped off my slides today to Taiwan and the clerk who helps me all the time in the post office asked me about my art work. When I revealed that I do photography she commented, oh there are tons of photographers here in Brookline. Nick Nixon lives down the street and Abe what's his name. I'm like.. Abe? You mean Abelardo Morrell? That's him, she says. Abe she calls him. His work makes me starry-eyed...

On going veg: first I wasn't, and than I was and than I wasn't, and now I am again.

In highschool, I fell in love with a senior in my brother's class, Justin Rush, pasty dreadlocked lead singer of Hindu Garage Sale who just happened to be a vegetarian - yes, him and my other adolescent rock star crush, Michael Stipe. My childhood friends remember me this way, so when I went back home in September and friends saw me eating chicken, they were like, wait aren't you a vegetarian?

In the early days, still living with my parents, I was only able to eliminate red meat from the diet. Later, in college, I had full control over what went into my body. In grad school, my immune system crashed due to stress and poor nutrition so I started eating red meat again which I definitely don't eat a lot of but than the habit stuck... on this recent trip to Taiwan... it has taken 10 years for my parents to comprehend that being a vegetarian means that no, chicken or beef steak, is not a part of the plan. Now that this registers for them, I don't feel like playing with their perceptions, God knows it might take another 10 years to get it back into their heads. After 3 weeks of going veg, I feel a lot more lucid, healthier, and cleaner. One lifestyle change worth revisiting.

Yesterday, I heard 3 co-workers talking about "free range" turkeys vs. the "other" kind. Free range turkeys were referred to as succulent, and also less fatty, because they get more exercise. One woman quipped that than no one in her family would enjoy them then b/c of the low fat content. Laughter at the table. I found it all a bit depressing. In Taiwan, I saw chickens in cages, pigs on trucks, disembodied fish heads in the markets - it doesn't all savvy with the vows of compassion. Also, Jim Casey told me about how angry the chicken is as a bird - a story he read in Thich Nhat Hanh's book Anger - chickens that grow up in cages, in factories have nothing to peck and cannot stand, become so angry that they peck the birds next to each other, so they are pecking each other to death. So when you put this angry animal in your body, it can't be creating a good energy.

I feel really out of touch with friends and loved ones at the moment. So many people to call and talk to, so little energy.

Spent a few hours tonight putting together my teaching plan for a book discussion on Amy Tan's The Bonesetter's Daughter. It is the first Tan novel I have read from cover to cover. I saw Joy Luck Club on video and got part way through her earlier novel - title something like the 100 hundred senses, I am misquoting/misremembering at the moment...

I have mixed feelings about Amy Tan. On one hand, I read her books and feel emotionally manipulated in the way that I come out of Disney movies wiping tears out of my eyes and grumbling to myself about Hollywood. She certainly knows which buttons to push. On the other hand, I have a hard time with her depiction of Chinese immigrants, though I think she nails the complexities between the 1st and 2nd generations.

The Bonesetter's Daughter is about 3 generations of women. Gu LiuXin is the bonesetter's daughter - a bonesetter being a practitioner of traditional Chinese herbal medicine. The bonesetter is unable to save his wife and sons from an epidemic illness and LiuXin is his only surviving child, as a result he spoils her and teaches her how to read and write, how to heal the sick. One day 2 clients come into the bonesetter's clinic - a baby which has been physically abused by his father, a coffin maker, and a young man who has been stepped on by his horse. The bonesetter and his daughter help to heal both - as a result, the father of the baby and the man injured by the horse both propose marriage to the bonesetter's daughter. LiuXin accepts the young man's proposal, shirking the offer of the coffin maker who angered by her rejection, ambushes her wedding party, stealing her dowry of oracle bones and murdering her father. The husband to be is accidentally killed when kicked by his horse. LiuXin attempts to commit suicide and swallows flaming ink which only succeeds in burning off her tongue, disfiguring half of her face, and making her mute. She is pregnant by Baby Uncle and gives birth to a daughter LuLing.

It's a very long story. 300+ pages. Then there is the dramatic story of LuLing and LuLing's reconciliation with her 2nd generation American daughter, Ruth. Alzheimer's Disease and dementia also figure into the narrative.

What I want to write about, before I forget everything, is seeing the oracle bones in the collection of the National Palace Museum in Taiwan (Chiang Kai-Shek's private collection). Oracle bones are used for a number of purposes - namely divining the future and documenting history. Fragments of bones with Chinese radicals and pictographs scratched into hard surfaces polished by human touch. Many of the oracle bones in the collection were turtle "plastrons" - the underside of a turtle's shell providing a larger writing surface. This was all before the invention of paper. Fascinating. Oracle bones, in the Tan story and thruout history, were used for their medicinal purposes - shaving off a small section and grinding into powder to put into a decoction. Some crazy stuff goes into those medicinal brews.

Got 2nd hepatitis shot today. Feeling slightly feverish and woozy.

Stay tuned for 2 links I need to build:

1) photos of Taiwan
2) photos from the family archives

I inherited a used camera tripod that I would like to give away. It weighs about 10 pounds and has lots of good photo karma. Any interested parties, email me. If you can pick it up from Watertown, it's yours.

Yesterday's Daily Metro and CNN.com ran short pieces about the new edition of the Merriam Webster's dictionary which now includes a listing/definition for "McJob".

Request for Proposals from the New Langton Arts Center in SF, CA:

Performance and video proposals on the theme of "how to."
From self-help books to how-to manuals, from etiquette-for-dummies to iron chef reruns, from teaching your baby sign language to g-spot instructional videos, our culture is obsessed with getting better, acting smarter, and playing like a pro.

Performers, videomakers, astrophysicists, preachers, jocks, code breakers, and the like are called upon to teach the how-tos and how-not-tos in an evening event to be held at Langton in April of 2004 .

Performances should be 5-15 minutes, and videos should be 8 minutes max.

Several artists will be selected to present their work in a one-night group
exhibition and screening.

Interdisciplinary performances or collaborations (between artists, or
between artists and those in other fields) are welcomed. Proposals/submissions will be selected by Langton's performance and video curators.

How-To Enter:

Applications must be received (not postmarked ) by Monday, January 12, 2004.

All applicants will be notified by mail the week of March 1, 2004. Please
do not call.

Entry Fee: None

VIDEO proposals must include:

1. Video you propose to show (works in progress acceptable); OR samples of past video work with a description of the video you propose to make for the show. VHS or DVD format only.

2. Resume.

3. Self-addressed stamped envelope with adequate return postage for all
documentation.
(If no SASE is included, the materials cannot be returned.) 4.

Optional: artist's statement/bio, additional still images, and tapes/DVDs of
past video work.

PERFORMANCE proposals must include:

1. Video documentation of past work (VHS format only), with a list of what
piece(s) are on the tape.

2. Description of your proposed performance (1 page max).

3. Resume.

4. Self-addressed stamped envelope with adequate return postage for all documentation.

(If no SASE is included, the materials cannot be returned.)

5. Optional: artist's statement/bio, additional still images of past work.


Proposals should be sent/delivered to:

New Langton Arts
Attn: The How-To Series
1246 Folsom St.
San Francisco, CA 94103

Autobiographia Literaria

When I was a child
I played by myself in a
corner of the schoolyard
all alone.

I hated dolls and I
hated games, animals were
not friendly and birds
flew away.

If anyone was looking
for me I hid behind a
tree and cried out "I am
an orphan."

And here I am, the
center of all beauty!
writing these poems!
Imagine!

- Frank O'Hara

I visited the Taipei Artists Village on my 1st day in the country. Our arrival in the country was rather dramatic. Well the departure for that matter was entirely dramatic also. My mother's passport expires in January 2004 but there is this wacky policy that bars entry into the country 6 months before your passport expires. So essentially, if your passport expires in January 2004 officially, the latest you can travel to Taiwan on this document is June 2003. There was a big ruckus when we checked in and my folks persuaded the agent to let my mother on the airplane though we were warned that she would not be let in the country. So we arrive and no, they would not let her in the country. She had to apply for a "landing visa". So I waited just past immigration/customs where they measured my temperature by pointing a hand-held device to my forehead. SARS and all.

So... the Taipei Artists Village is a fairly newly built artist's colony in the heart of Taipei city. The facilities are quite modern and include a photo/video/film editing lab, a wet darkroom for B&W, office space for writers, a gallery/perf space and modern apartments with A/C and heating. I got a quick tour of the facility and chatted with some Australian artists who spoke well of their time at the colony and of their hosts. The staff is friendly, speak a limited amount of English. I was warned up front, by both my mother and the program administrator that poetry and literature are a "secondary" art in Taiwan - the real arts being painting, music, dance, the classical visual and performing arts. Poetry/prose are in this "other" category. I was told basically to submit a photographic portfolio with my book so that the judges could see a range of my interests. The Taiwanese are so very hard to please. Sigh.

I am sorting out my thoughts about the trip...

I visited very briefly with my cousin Cong-hui who came to America to study English a couple of years ago. At that time, she was desperately unhappy and proclaimed that she would like to be reborn in the next life as a man. Because in her mind, men have more opportunities, more power. From a Buddhist perspective, to want to be reborn at all is heartbreaking. Anyways, a few months ago, one of her friends arranged a love match for Cong-hui and she is getting formally engaged next month and married in March to a man who is neither tall nor who drives a fancy car (her previous criteria for a match). She says it was "about time" - meaning mostly that she'd been advised by 3rd Uncle to find somebody and get out of the house.

The engagement is a formal, traditional affair in which the parents of each person meets each other. The groom brings special cookies to the parents of his bride which they can then distribute to friends and family thus announcing the happy news. I saw one of these cookies on my first trip to Taiwan five years ago. I was driving around with my cousin Yi Heng and he had a cigar shaped wafer cookie on the dashboard of his car. A girl he had once loved sent it to him - her way of letting him know that nothing more was possible. How sad my cousin was! 5 years later, he is living in Taipei, with his new girlfriend, a distincly untraditional thing to do in the Taiwanese culture. 4th Uncle and his wife visited them in the city and asked about their intentions and arranged a visit to her parents house. So forward-thinking...

The air still smelled charred in So Cal. Thank God our house didn't burn, though my Dad's university lost 3 buildings and was shut down and evacuated. The roads to the mountains are still closed though there are backroads which doubles his commute time. Ugh. The swimming pool was filled with ash. Never seen anything like it.

Operating on very little sleep here.

Lunar eclipse overview.

Visited the town of Shui Li yesterday where there is an ancient temple that collapsed in the big earthquake of 1999. The foundation wasn't strong enough to support the weight of the top floors and the building crumpled. The local township has decided not to rebuild but rescued the sculptures of the deities that were worshipped within the temple and erected a shrine for them. There are several gods, and 3 of these black-faced sculptures wear beards that have been reported to grow rather mysteriously after the earthquake.

4 out of 4 aunts were married through arranged marriages.
2 out of 5 uncles were "love matches" vs. finding wives on their own. The 3 youngest, including my father met their future wives to be.


The government worker who processed the paperwork to register citizens/families disliked the family and played a nasty trick on the Pai Tsai family. All of the men except for 1st uncle are "Pai". All the women and 1st Uncle are Pai Tsai. When women marry in this culture, they add the husband's name to their existing name. The young women of the family, already having 2 last names would be forever laughed at upon speaking their names as people would presume that they had been married many many times already and thus be humiliated.

The local elementary school published on their 100th anniversary, a listing of every graduate's information for the past 100 years. My dad and uncles are in the listing, and my 4th aunt. Except she is mislisted as Pai instead of Pai Tsai. She was furious and we told her to tell the school so on the next printing/the next edition, the edit can me made to the error.

Leaving for Taipei via bus in about an hour from the Aloha bus station in Taichung.

At breakfast, 4th Uncle said to me to live life as if shooting a photograph. From either side you see two different perspectives, looking at your subject directly you see another path, and from behind, yet another vantage point. Think things through before you take the picture, don't rush. Live your life like this.

Down at the end of the road there was for many years a pineapple canning factory. Workers cut up the pineapples and the cores were dumped en masse in the fields near the family house. The smell of pineapple scented the air of Ching Shui. The local children, poor kids of farmers, would pick up the pineapple cores and gnaw whatever meat was left on them. Grandmother used to tell the kids that if they ate these throwaway parts they would go mute so that they would be afraid. Years later, the pineapple cores disappeared from the fields when the factories discovered that they could make use of these parts, by squeezing the cores to make and can juice. Likewise for many years, metal bits of scrap were dumped in the fields until recycling was put into practice.

More on turtles: grandfather gave 4th Uncle a turtle when he was a kid. He carved his own nickname "Kame" (turtle in Japanese) in to the turtle's shell. They drilled a hole thru the shell and laced a piece of twine around the animal's body, like a leash. One day there was a hurricane - chairs and tables blowing about the neighbor's chimney - the rains flooded the street in front of the house and swept the turtle away downstream.

We ran into my 4th Aunt on the street with her husband. They rode the bus in from Taichung which took them about an hour. She brought with her homemade green and red "turtles" - basically a giant mochi - the red stuffed with azuki bean and the green stuffed with veggies- the kind of foods that grandmother fed the kids growing up - lots of creative ways to make meals out of rice. Running into my 4th Aunt and uncle on the street like that had to be one of the most delightful moments in my life. As if we lived there and such a meeting should be so every day.

I read from Equivalence (with slide show) last week to a group of Taiwanese English students at Kaoshiung University. The comprehension factor was tough as the students had no previous exposure to literature in the English language. Afterwards one student asked me rather shyly why I have so many poems on Asian topics. I am viewed as an American by both the elder and younger generations here, so there is this presumption of what that should look like. One positive outcome from the reading was that my mother, a visual artist, finally really made a connection with my work. She saw the galley and I sent her a copy of the book when it came out, and I know that she's read the poems and pulled out the dictionary when she comes across unfamiliar words. But for her, seeing slide photos of Wolfgang Laib's work and Jackson Pollock, that tied everything together for her. It was really amazing to see the comprehension registeriing on her face and the deeper meaning coming through. Dad had a conflicting lecture at the time of my reading but arrived with 3 poems to go in my reading. I noticed that when he walked in the room, my inner child had a minor freak out - I started stammering, slipping on the language thing - saying um a lot and getting really self-conscious. In all the years that I have been giving performances, this was the very first time my dad had been in the room and I realized what a big moment that was emotionally.

4th uncle's first son's wife is at the hospital about to give birth to her first child. She's way overdue, huge as a house and walked the stairs up and down all night trying to induce labor. The name of the baby will come from 3rd uncle after his birth, as my name once came from him.

Last night dad took mom and I for a walking tour of Ching Shui after dinner. The streets where we walked were only built in the last 15-30 years. At the time when my father grew up, nothing but rice fields, dirt roads, and everyone walked. no one owned a car. We stopped in at the home of dad's boyhood friend from elementary school. Mr. Chen made us a pot of tea and the two rehashed growing up under the reign of the White Terror, post KMT occupation when you could hear soldiers out on the streets hassling people, and next thing you know, bing bing biang biang , someone's taken away and you never see them again.

On the drive to the bus station in Taichung to pick up dad last night, we passed a military air base that is just minutes from the house on Ta Chieh Lu. 4th uncle was lucky enough to be stationed locally when he served in the military (compulsory in this country). Dad was stationed on the island of Ma Tsu. 4th Uncle drove tanks. Once a tank (not his) was driving down the side of the mountain behind Ta Chieh Lu and the driver lost control. The tank rolled off the side of the road and landed on a neighboring house demolishing it. 4th Uncle was off duty at home when it happened and heard the crash. He ran outside to the tank and found both of the soldiers inside already dead, surrounded by ammunition and artillery. The firefighters came but had to wait for all of rounds of ammunition to explode before getting the whole thing under control.

It is both heartbreaking and joyful to see my dad truly happy for what may be the first time in my life. You can not return to the past or relive the past but peace must be made with it and it can never be forgotten. I had thought that the changes to Dad's home town might disturb or upset him - he doesn't know the new roads, and well, frankly, change has no place in nostaglia. But as it turns out, the new shops in the neighborhood, the addition of a new bakery in close proximity are all pleasing improvements.

I've been reading Joel Sloman's Stops which reads to me like music. My favorite poems in the collection are Constellations, Recitative, and To the Sky which reminds me a lot of Keats' odes. I took way long to read this book, it is brilliant! Hope the reading in Cambridge was well attended...

The turtle that was living in my uncle's downstairs bathroom sink 5 years ago is in the same place I last saw it. Now a days it is less afraid of people, although this is the period of its hibernation. To spend one's whole life in a bathroom sink -

Everything is birth death rebirth death and more rebirth.

Dad's home town has changed quite a bit from when he grew up here. My mom and I walked down a busy street crowded with scooters and cars down to my Dad's old elementary school. In his day, the roads weren't paved, there were very few houses, and the path to school thru the rice fields was a zig zag indirect one. One of my cousins sends her youngest daughter to the same local elementary school and pulled out a book on the school produced for its 100 year anniversary in recent years. The book has photos of Ching Shui 50 years ago - rice fields, mountains, children of a different era. As we walked around the old campus, we passed the principal's office where dad no doubt spent plenty of time for getting into scraps with other little boys.

On the roadsides in Taiwan are betel nut stands - little glass booths which house pretty, young girls in various states of dress and undress who are hired to sell betel nut - a carcinogenic chewing gum like product which produces a dark red juice not unlike the color of blood. Betel nut is enjoyed by many folks from the lower socio-economic classes, street vendors, taxi drivers. The see thru booths are located on remote roads and lit by bright flashing neon lights attracting men to stop along the road. Legally, only girls over 18 are allowed to have these jobs, which pay about 40,000 NT　per month. It is a dangerous profession - the girsl wear bikinis, tiny skirts, lots of make-up but are not selling sex in at least most cases.

betel nut girls now have dress codes.

cultural observations:

in situations when my mother and I have been driven in cars by Taiwanese, we always end up in the backseat, though the passenger's seat next to the driver usually remains empty. Even if this means that 3 people are crammed into the back seat of a tiny sedan. Apparently, the passenger seat next to the driver is reserved for that person's spouse. If my mother were to sit in the front seat next to a man other than her husband who is shuttling us around - someone might see them together and report it back to that person's wife. And than the assumption might be that that person sitting in that seat, is a mistress/adultress. So people of the opposite sex are not permitted to sit next to one another, with the exception of children and parents.

So far on this trip there has been an inordinate amount of driving and sitting in cars. And hotel rooms.

Typhoon winds and rains. Here now with my mother at my 4th Uncle's House in Ching Shui (Clean River) for a few days - my father's home town. Tomorrow a tour of the local sites hopefully - the elementary school where dad got into fights, the railway station, and if I'm lucky/sneak enough, entry into the tiny Japanese style house where all 9 siblings, and my grandmother and grandfather lived for many many years. The roof has since collapsed, the door is gone from the hinges, and on the last trip, I was forbidden entry. God knows what poisonous snakes live within...

Taking a break from packing to web surf. Listening to Rufus Wainwright's new CD which is quite tender. Not as much guitar, but string arrangements, piano, and heavy orchestration, a very different sound than Poses. Still beautiful and heartfelt and the man, Rufus, well no one sings like Rufus.

The buzz over Ghettopoly.

Arnold and the APA contingent.

Books I am taking on the airplane with me:

Eileen Tabios: Reproductions of the Empty Flagpole
Joel Slomon: Stops
Amy Tan: The Bonesetter's Daughter
Gerrit Lansing: A February Sheath

First snow, the leaves still green on the trees.

Yesterday, a long lost childhood sweetheart, Israel David Wilkinson, tracked me down to Boston. Izz is married, living outside of Las Vegas, has 2 little girls and fights fires and rescues people desperately in need of being saved, you know, like people hanging off of the sides of cliffs. How appropriate that this should end up being his professional vocation.

It is always totally gratifying when someone goes to the effort to reach out and find you.

My 10 year highschool reunion is in a month, and I'm starting to get contemplative about what that whole experience will be like. K and I are flying into SoCal the day after Thanksgiving and my best friend Rochel is hosting a party at her house with her new husband. Well relatively new, newlyweds since September though together for 10 years. It will be fun to see who's married to who and who's gained weight or lost weight or who has kids or who is famous and did anyone else turn out to be an artist, etc. Sadder, will be to acknowledge those who have died. My dear friend John Emett from leukemia just last year, and Angelina Welsh, a budding actress in a car crash years ago. Doubtless, there will be others.

Gama-go has recently updated their site... space aliens, ninja kitties and astrobunnies.

I am the proud new owner of a hand-restored wine red Fender Stratocaster, gift of an old friend from my Chicago days who wrote in his little dispatch, "Here is your next challenge!". Indeed. Will I ever do it justice? Now there are absolutely no excuses to not make music.

If I could only sing with the transparency of Jeff Buckley...

Spent the morning making arrangements for a short trip to Saratoga Springs, NY which is apparently quite the tourist hotspot - Yaddo AND horse racing. I will be in the land of Lake George, Alfred Stieglitz's summer home with Georgia O'Keefe.

Everything always seems to pile up insanely pre-vacation. I overslept this morning and woke up at 6:58. Was out on the curb picking up the bus 15 minutes later. 3.5 days to go...

Happy birthday, Kort! Ai shi teru.

Ran into the lovely Bibliogal at Tealuxe as I was leaving with Jim. Sold a copy of Equivalence to Gal on the spot and gave Jim two for the store. If you haven't yet bought yr copy you know where to find one...!

Go to this reading because it will rock your world and make you see life a little differently:

Grolier Poetry Series
Tuesday, November 4, 8 p.m., Adams House, 26 Plympton Street
Andrew Schelling reading new poetry and from his collection of essays
WILD FORM, SAVAGE GRAMMAR

"Andrew Schelling is the latest incarnation in an American poetic lineage that began with the Transcendentalists and moved west with Rexroth and Snyder" - Eliot Weinberger

Andrew Schelling teaches poetry, Sanskrit, and bioregional writing at Naropa University. He is a student of natural history, scholar of the literatures and languages of Asia, and an avid mountaineer. Recent books include Tea Shack Interior.

Started reading Amy Tan's The Bonesetter's Daughter. Well, the timing of reading this book coincides with just about everything I have learned at my job about Alzheimer's Disease and what it does to people. It also makes me a little bit melancholy as I embark on this trip to Taiwan with my parents and travel into their pasts. All of this history could someday be lost. The question is how to preserve and honor it.

Recently acquired CDs:

Mojave 3: Spoon and Rafter
Jeff Buckley: My Sweetheart the Drunk
REM: Reveal
REM: New Adventures in Hi-Fi

Yesterday, the subject of DALLAS alongside the FUTURE came up in conversation.

Worked this weekend on putting together a teaching proposal for the Split Rock Arts Program at the University of Minnesota. I have never been to Minnesota but it seems to be a happening enough place - home to the Loft, and weren't the Replacements and Prince from Minneapolis at one time?

Lost some of my hearing last night at the Iron and Wine show. A band named Charlene opened - lots of noise and feedback. The singer was under mic'ed but charistmatic. 3 of the 4 members of the band wore these trendy zip up sweaters - well actually, I guess one of the guitarists was technically wearing a hoodie. They played 6 songs and were on the whole, not unpleasant but not terribly professional either. None of the players seemed very experienced or familiar with their instrument except for the drummer. They had a drum machine substitute in for the drummer on a few songs and this awful synth. The last song they played was a cover of "I'm on Fire" which was quite nice but took a long time to get going.

Iron and Wine were really nice. Not so low-fi 1 man after all. 2 guitar players (with occasional mandolin/banjo), a drummer and a backup/harmony singer. I don't remember seeing a bass on stage. They were very different musically and stylistically. Whereas Charlene had this whole hip trendy underfed thing going, I was much more drawn to the down to earth, well-groomed beards eye glass t-shirt belt buckle thing that Iron and Wine had going. Pretty country REM Wilcoish kind of sound. Very pretty.

Tragic and heart-breakingly horrendous accident on the Staten Island ferry yesterday. Decapitated heads and severed limbs. Saw a photo of the ferry boat after it rammed into the dock, described in the paper as if a can opener were taken to the boat - ripping open wide a whole side of the boat. those poor poor people. This image stays with me, raw and brutal.

Kort turns 30 on Tuesday. The big 3-0. Aging. What's it all mean? Another year, or a major marker. I brought home K's gift, a picture frame for his photo with the grand tea master. Unboxed it, and started putting it together and realized that there was a big nasty scratch on the glass surface. Grabbed the windex and tried to polish it away. Maybe he won't notice, I thought rather desperately. And then I looked at the grand tea master Soshitsu Sen XVI, and though what would he do in this situation? That's a no-brainer - return it and make it perfect. Starting from scratch again... each moment, ichi go ichi e.

books, books, books... the brookline booksmith is having a remainders sale with a surprising amount of Asian and Asian American lit. picked up Hunger by Lan Samantha Chang who teaches locally at Harvard. Also saw titles by Banana Yoshimoto, Nora Okja Keller and many others.

Just received Noah Eli Gordon's "The Frequencies" in the mail along with a Braincase chapbook of Sara Veglahn's work. Noah's book, published by Tougher Disguises in Oakland, is incredibly sexy and elegant in its design. The cover painting reminds of Jaspar Johns though it is much more contemporary. Nice job!

Iron and Wine tonite at T.T's. Low-fi one man act. Should be excellent.

It is extremely good news that the Taiwanese electrical system is 100% compatible with U.S. plugs.

Yesterday morning on the 73 bus from Watertown to Harvard Square the windows of the bus were all fogged up from bodies and humidity. From where I was standing, I could see a woman with her hair loosely pinned into a up-do, with her head leaning up against the glass of the window. It was still dark outside and the sun had not yet risen - the sky was a very deep deep blue. Around her, the fog on the window had been wiped away from the movements of her head as she tried to find a comfortable position as she dozed. All the other windows remained perfectly opaque. The sight of this woman for some reason made me happy.

Thanks to everyone who came out to Saturday's reading and to all who bought books!

I've convinced that this week's lethargy and apathy can be pinned on Monday's hepatitis vaccines. It seemed to take forever for the weekend to get here. I could sleep all weekend...

Last night, K and I saw the Coen brothers' new film "Intolerable Cruelty" starring George Clooney and Catherine Zeta-Jones. Clooney is hilarious in his role, as a jaded California divorce lawyer with an obsession with his teeth, who falls in love with the out-going, gold-digging wife of one of his clients. Clooney does the whole lovestruck thing well - in his newest offering, but I also couldn't help but think of his performance in "Solaris" which was a very different film but also utterly convincing in the character's vulnerability. A "sitting duck". Delightful.

I have had about 4 anxiety dreams about tonite's reading at Wordsworth. Spent the morning meditating and cleaning the house, slowing down.

After seeing Lost in Translation for the 2nd time on Thursday, I had a great talk with Walker who identified strongly with Bob Harris. Walker described the movie as being about disconnection. Both Bob and Charlotte exist in these relationships where neither of their partners really know or see who they are. Though the film is set in Japan, Japan is a metaphor for life in general, the kind of disconnectivity that can occur anywhere in the world, like right here around us in Boston. Kort pointed out that Bob, being an actor, had his need to be seen and to entertain fulfilled by Charlotte, who was able to give him her full attention and to hear his truth and to speak hers. Another interesting aspect of the film is the way that time slows down for these 2 characters while everything goes on around them, the connection and understanding between them becomes timeless.

Many marvelous visual details in the 2nd viewing that I missed in the first. When the firemen come to the hotel for triggered alarm, they are dressed in silver suits that make them look like space men. As Charlotte embraces Bob one last time in the streets of Tokyo, she stands on her tiptoes in her high heels .

Maxine Hong Kingston Reading
Date: Wednesday, October 15, 2003
Time: 6:00pm Reception, 7:00pm Reading
Place: Cambridge Friends Meetinghouse,
5 Longfellow Park, Cambridge MA

In her newest book, The Fifth Book of Peace, Maxine Hong Kingston shares her own memories of the Sanctuary movement during the Viet Nam War, and tells of her exploration, with writers' groups of military veterans, of the transformative power of writing in community.

Lyrics to Roxy Music's "More Than This"

I could feel at the time
There was no way of knowing
Fallen leaves in the night
Who can say where they're blowing
As free as the wind
And hopefully learning
Why the sea on the tide
Has no way of turning

More than this-there is nothing
More than this-tell me one thing
More than this-there is nothing

It was fun for a while
There was no way of knowing
Like a dream in the night
Who can say where we're going
No care in the world
Maybe I'm learning
Why the sea on the tide
Has no way of turning

More than this-there is nothing
More than this-tell me one thing
More than this-there is nothing

It is 10:39. I just came home with my friend Walker. Kort called while we were at "Lost in translation" and left a voicemail that a package from the UPS arrived. The book! Walker drove me home to Watertown and we all 3 of us tore into the box with a pair of scissors. My first 40 copies of the book, each individually shrinkwrapped. Walker's cover painting looks excellent - the colors reproduced well, the size of the book is slightly larger than standard, the cover is matte, vs. glossy. The interior of the book is beautifully typeset with a sense of spaciousness and I am very very VERY happy!

Received a package in the mail from the lovely and talented Jaime Skolfield of Seattle, WA. Designer of the "sushi purse". These little handbags are like the coolest thing on earth. I am now the proud owner of a red herring chip shop and a gina's kitchen in spinach. Spinach reminds me a bit of green tea in color and seemed like a perfect fit.

Day jobs I have had at various times:

- artist's model
- alto in a church choir
- museum educator
- outreach program manager
- events planner
- restaurant hostess
- catering staff
- admissions assistant at a university/campus tour guide
- managing editor of a small newspaper
- editorial assistant at a literary mag
- office manager in a hospital

The job which I derived the most enjoyment from was being an artist's model. 2nd to that would probably be my stint at the DMA.

Today I am thinking about the notion of "speaking one's truth" and letting that be heard. It is not everyone with whom we speak our truth. At least, culturally speaking, that's how it works in my world, with my family, etc. But sometimes we have these moments of speaking our truth, like for me, when I went away on retreat and met a painter named Whiting Tennis, which than opens up to the notion of being seen which is sort of a pretty important thing. Practice, practice... we practice with those with whom we feel safest, and than at some point have to cross the boundary and practice with those that feel unsafe - the place where all kinds of misunderstandings occur, misunderstandings and opportunities for growth and self-discovery.

My therapist talked to me about conflict resolution yesterday. There is a model - when faced with confrontation the 5 choices in front of us are:

1) Avoidance
2) Accommodation
3) Competition
4) Compromising
5) Collaboration

It's an interesting way to think about the interactions we have on a day to day basis. Slowing things down enough to see the choices and respond from the heart, or somewhere else sometimes. For myself, suffering from the deer in headlights complex of freezing and not always being able to move thru the moment, knowing what the choices are helps a lot. But then there is the matter of what energy to bring to these choices, which buddha family would be best received by the one confronted. I err on the side of accommodation and avoidance in most cases, though there are aspirations of collaboration.

If anyone would like to receive a postcard from the beautiful Ilha Formosa, email me your snail mail address and I will be happy to accommodate.

R.I.P. William Steig. Abel's Island was a childhood favorite.

Today my arms are achy from getting hepatitis shots at the doc's yesterday. What I love about my Dr. is that everything is a choice. After 2 shots of hep A and B, I declined the flu shot, especially since the thing mimics the illness and I don't particularly feel like having the flu right at this moment. Western needles are nothing like acupuncture needles, i.e. shots at the doc's will always hurt. Supposedly this will foolproof me from catching Hep A thru the consumption of sushi and raw fish on the upcoming Taiwan trip. Just learned of the Taipei Artist's Village which I hope to check out with my Mom during our stay in Taipei. It could be the next cool thing - never mind Yaddo!

On etiquette - usually I handle the "when are you getting married question" a bit more spaciously depending on who and where's it coming from, but when recently asked by someone I know not at all in a very public setting surrounded by people who semi-know me, I very much wanted to redirect and say (but did not) - "so now that you've finally bought property when do you plan on squeezing out some babies?" GRRRR!!!!

I find the marriage/commitment question a very intimate and private one but will say publicly, i.e. on this blog, that while I believe in marriage as much more than an institution and cultural/social phenomena (i.e. romance and LOVE), I don't believe in it as the end all, be all that it may be for some people, i.e. people of my parents' culture or generation. Love matters, but perhaps in the end a commitment to spiritual actualization, being here, and enlightened society are the priority. If you are with your dharmic partner with whom to walk the path - what difference does marriage make? Process is everything. I would rather see through the veil, than wear, or be blinded by the stupid thing.

I just read the correspondence between Aaron and one of his blog readers and felt pretty mortified. It gives me a stomachache. Uck.

Dan Bouchard and Richard Deming read on Saturday. I liked Richard's work, particularly his love poems quite a bit. He had a nice way with the audience, conversational, and semi-revealing at times - he seemed like a genuinely nice person. He runs Phylum Press out of Connecticut.

My top 10 Smiths songs of all time:

1. Please, please, please let me get what I want
2. I know it's over
3. The boy with a thorn in his side
4. There is a light that never goes out
5. Well, I wonder
6. How soon is now?
7. Half a person
8. Stretch out and wait
9. That joke isn't funny any more
10. This night has opened my eyes

Boston University won the bid to build a multi-million dollar biodefense lab in Boston's South End, "a facility designed to house the deadliest agents known to man, including Ebola and smallpox". Construction will begin in 2004 to be completed in 2007.

Anyone thinking of relocating?

I ran into my favorite local poet and monkey blogger, Jimmy B on the 66 bus to Harvard yesterday. Jim was drinking a Boylan's grape soda and wearing these green lensed sunglasses that made me think Hunter S. Thompson. We talked about blurbs and books and publishing and communities and it felt about a bazillion times more gratifying than the Grub Street panel I spoke on a few weeks ago. A more expansive and progressive notion of community.

The former chair of the Writing program at the Art Institute sent out a huge email blast to alumni a few days ago after gathering together materials from an earlier email she sent asking folks what they are up to post SAIC. It was good to read about the life events of some of the people in the program that I actually liked - what sort of struck me most was the desire that many people were expressing to find or form new communities b/c of something lacking. One woman actually went out and pioneered her own non-profit literary organization, Inkberry, based on the Guild Complex in Chicago.

Ok, so yesterday was sort of an exercise in being unattached if nothing else. The book has not arrived from the printer though it was sent by 2 day UPS from the printer in Minneapolis on Monday. I was eating dinner and saw the big brown UPS truck rolling down the street and I was like, hey, I'm right here! Come back! Had to resist the urge to bolt downstairs and go running down the street. Patience, patience...

John Mulrooney is giving me my first guitar lesson next Thursday. I am psyched!

Went to see Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings last night at T.T the Bear's. A funky rump shakin' good time. The bass player and band leader, Gabe "Bosco Mann" Roth, was a classmate of mine back at North High School. It was good to see him making music vs. say, practicing law. Their singer, Sharon Jones, is totally dynamic. It was a highly interactive performance where members of the audience were invited on stage to dance. Sharon taught folk how to dance the "monkey", the "pony", and the "bus stop". Funky!

I was very interested in the people who were dancing directly in front of us. This one kid didn't pick up his feet once. He had on some black dress shoes with some slippery soles that led him slide back and forth. Apparently there's a dance called the slide - but I bet it'd be hard to do if you weren't wearing the right shoes.

I really really love the Moz reference link on Aaron's blog. I am a Morrissey fanatic and just now memories of going to a concert with Tara Grassman for the Kill Uncle tour during highschool just drifted back into my conscience mind. For many years I thought, oh that poor Morrissey, so sad, but as I get older and listen to the Smiths, I think, what a funny delightful guy. I read in some celebrity magazine that he is super happy living in Hollywood. Why wouldn't he be!

smells like teen spirit

picking up girls is
one of many perks

aerial maneuvers
and heavy lifting

hands on hips
go or punch

bow and arrow
shooting daggers

behind the bleachers
the free form splay,

pleated minis and
perky majorettes

leading the cheer
fluff them

pom pons
and perfect

your herkie
the "hurdler",

side and front
twiddling

streaming
chrome batons

Christopher Rizzo has a wonderful poem called "Cathedral" up on his blog. It reminds me of Pollock and Monet's studies of the cathedral at Rouen.

The party this weekend was fun. Thanks to all the lovely lovely poets and acupuncturists for coming! Loved the typewriter poems and will keep them filed away for when we are all famous! Joel, I think I'm gonna use the velcro as closures for little handmade books. Jimmy, your painting joins our 1st Behrle in the living room.

Top non-alcoholic drinks served at the party: Suntory's "Life Partner" and "Crush".

Lovely Jimmy B designed these Equivalence world tour items for me!

Hmmm... will I wonder if Kort would agree or disagree...


-Perfect- You're the perfect girlfriend. Which
means you're rare or that you cheated :P You're
the kind of chick that can hang out with your
boyfriend's friends and be silly. You don't
care about presents or about going to fancy
placed. Hell, just hang out. You're just happy
being around your boyfriend.


What Kind of Girlfriend Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

According to the Queer Eye quiz on Liz's site - my best match is:


Ted: Food & Wine Connoisseur


Which Member from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy is your type?
brought to you by Quizilla

I finally took the time to get familiar with how to read the site meter on this blog. Hi, Larry! Who is reading from Egan Capital?

Oh, so I didn't mention that I went to see Underworld last week with Kort, because it was imminently forgettable. Kate Beckinsale looks good in the movie in leather and a razor sharp haircut. The vampires are easily more stylish and attractive than their counterparts, the werewolves. Werewolves in the movie are referred to as "lichens" - so I asked Kort why are they being called moss and plant matter instead of werewolves - K said "l-y-c-a-n-s" as in "lycan-thrope". SILLY rabbit.

For the last 6 months or so I have been somewhat obsessed with sports and adolescence in my work - ever since meeting photographer Ferenc Suto. Last night worked on a poem on cheerleading of all topics and discovered many interesting things about the "spirit industry". It started in the 1800s in Minnesota and was spearheaded by a young medical student who believed that "organized cheering" for the school football team, the gophers, could help inspire wins. Cheering didn't really take off until the 1940s and Lawrence Herkimer, a teenager growing up in Dallas. Lawrence had a stuttering problem but excelled at gymnastics and found that when he helped to lead the cheer, he never stuttered. So the origination of cheerleading is interestingly enough with men, considering that in the years since it has become a very female oriented activity - though in the last ten years or so, it seems that men are getting reintroduced back into it, albeit with some stigma. At my high school, Leonard Avila - a former speed freak and dealer cleaned up and became 1 of 3 guys on our school's cheerleading team. I'm convinced Leonard did it so he could pick up girls, literally. Herkimer went on to establish a number of cheerleading associations which have grown into million dollar businesses. He even has a jump named after him: the "herkie".

Wished that we had television so that we could view the political debates in California yesterday.

Newly confirmed reading:

February 25, 2004, Santa Fe New Mexico. Recursos Series with Andrew Schelling and Lisa Gill.

Coming to a town near you!

Kort just called to tell me that a) my new hair stylist cancelled (infuriating and so typical - I am going back to the lovely but expensive Glenn Pereira at Diego's! hrumph...) and b) Eileen Tabio's Marsh Hawk title just arrived in our mailbox. That bunny, sure knows how to temper bad news with the good...

I am getting a haircut today at a salon in Allston. The stylist is Korean. Should be interesting. I had been tempted to cut it all off before Rochel's wedding in early September, but there could have been disaster potential happening there. Expect 10-12 inches.

Now why does the banner ad over this blog read "Golden Dragon Treasures"?

The banner ad above Amanda's blog is for Yarnia.com - a knitter's resource - a happy accident?

Equivalence is shipping from the printer's on Monday! I should have copies on Wednesday. Hooray!

Three Poems about Arnold:

breakfast of champions

egged on
by the public
that guy owes
me some bacon
served up over
easy with a side
of milquetoast
buttered and laid
in a dish of milk
the one who speaks
softly, gets
whacked
first, with
a big stick



the pursuit of masculine perfection

one pump is
better than coming
up a disciplined,
young savage
strapping yet brutal
in white leather
inversion
boots

fit and well
hung he
could tell you squat
about submission
banished from
the competition
for unnecessary
roughness
at break time
league expansion,
everywhere

legs
legs
legs



on the secret sex lives of body builders

hard on yourself
and hard on others

the cock isn’t
a muscle that
grows in proportion…

to a man’s ego
I went out there
feeling like King Kong

atop the Chrysler tower,
the heroine was heavy -
by building standards

she can weigh 150
pounds, I don’t care
if she’s a good fuck

having chicks around
is the kind of thing that
breaks up intense

training

everyone jump on
and we’ll all
get together

oui
we

My friend James Casey in Deleware stopped reading this blog because it makes him feel sad and reminds him that we are not a part of each others' daily lives. That too made me sad, as part of the concept of the blog is to keep up with loved ones. Jim is way to busy administering art and playing music to start a blog, but if he did, we would be very happy.

I have acquired 2 new pieces of technology - a milestone for me. A Sony-Erickson cell phone and a Canon Elph. I am still getting used to both. The cell phone is sitting on my desk at home. Most of the time I leave it off, if I am carrying it around with me. Yesterday, I got my first wrong number caller. The camera is a birthday gift from Kort. I have been eyeing it suspiciously, but with excitement. Kort's already taken a number of photos and even shot video footage of me ironing my dress in the kitchen on Saturday. I can email quick time videos home while in Taiwan and photos galore, should I ever overcome my aversion to technology!

I had a dream last night that I was in Southern California visiting my 2 best friends, Jennifer and Rochel, who were driving me to the airport to head back to Boston. They had a TV in the car and we watched footage of Boston getting bombed by terrorist missiles and exploding in white smoke. Kort was not in the dream, and I had to wonder where he was.

I have been thinking a lot recently of the question of place and home and feel uncertain about the year ahead at times. The impending birthday has me feeling contemplative - I make it a habit of setting new year's resolutions for myself twice a year - once on the day of my birth, and again at the turn of the new year.

Recently added to the reading tour:

November 19, Simmons University, Boston, MA - with Arthur Sze and Carol Moldaw! 11-12:30 p.m. Forget coming to see me - come see the amazing Arthur Sze, poet, translator, and elder, and his incredible poet wife Carol Moldaw!

And ...

September 25, 7 p.m. Gallery Diablo, 1514 Tremont Street in Mission Hill. Women's Voice reading with Ann Killough and Elizabeth Doran. I will be reading work by some of my literary influences - Sei Shonagon, Izumi Shikibu, and Ono no Komachi - and reading a few of my own poems informed by Eastern aesthetics and cultural issues.