Thursday, June 29, 2006
The new game in town
Dallas has plans for a new artist residency program called La Reunion. Read the blog here. It has nothing to do with UT Dallas or Southside on Lamar and is taking the steps to become a non-profit. The organization has also received a donation of 35 wooded acres of land on which to house the program. Sounds like some smart leadership. Learn from the mistakes of the Southside Program!
Monday, June 26, 2006
The Total Life Cleanse
June 24 marked the start of a 9-week cleanse under the supervision of Dr. Kevin Gregg, an Ayurvedic healer with Boston roots. Kort and I are doing the cleanse together. Join us at the frontiers of health and read about our experiences here.
We will be eliminating wheat, sugar, nightshade, red meat, fish, processed food, dairy, chemicals and a long list of items from our day-to-day experience.
We will be getting up at 6 a.m. every morning, drinking protein shakes, taking supplements, going for walks to start and end the day, journaling, doing volunteer work, cooking and trying not to step on each other's toes while getting some clarity. Goodbye to the old life.
Infrequent blogging for the next few weeks at the Makura No Soshi.
We will be eliminating wheat, sugar, nightshade, red meat, fish, processed food, dairy, chemicals and a long list of items from our day-to-day experience.
We will be getting up at 6 a.m. every morning, drinking protein shakes, taking supplements, going for walks to start and end the day, journaling, doing volunteer work, cooking and trying not to step on each other's toes while getting some clarity. Goodbye to the old life.
Infrequent blogging for the next few weeks at the Makura No Soshi.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Darlene sang several songs at Bob's memorial.
The stage was decorated with several artworks commemorating El Bob.
Portrait of Bob as a young man.
His closest friends walked in the processional carrying box assemblages that Bob made over his lifetime. They were placed in front of the podium on a small altar-like table, along with several of his books.
Big Game Hunter of the Heart
Robert Marshall Trammell's memorial was held yesterday at Winfrey Point at White Rock Lake. More than it being a somber event, the mood was very celebratory. The program was officiated by a Christian minister who went to great lengths to make it a non-denominational address that would include everyone in attendance. The stage was set with a huge painted portrait of Bob with braids and a knapsack, while in the background, there was a screenprinted canvas in red with a portrait of "El Bob" as Che Guevara.
Karen X didn't get her gospel choir, but several people did sing during the program. Novelist David Searcy who met Bob when both were studying at SMU, talked about Bob's importance as a LOCAL vs. a REGIONAL writer. Bob wrote about the plants in his garden, and the cicadas in Texas, and the history of Jack Ruby and he was very much here, up until the final moments. And when David arrived at the house on Mecca minutes after Bob had passed and gazed down on Bob's body which had been cleaned and dressed, his hair braided with flowers in it and his hands folded over his chest, David knew that Bob had arrived at SINGULARITY. David's delivery had an urgent fire to it, Keroauckian in its delivery and abrupt in its cut-off in the way that Bob would just end a poem before you expected it. Ben Fountain, a local short-story writer spoke of how Bob had mentored him and the challenges of working outside the academic institutions. Yet Bob achieved recognition and respect both in and outside of the academe, and instilled young writers with the confidence to pursue whatever path they need to. Michael, aka "Mr. Natural" aka the "Barefoot Poet" affirmed this after the memorial as well. Two relatives, Bob's brother-in-law and his father-in-law shared funny stories. Bob's brother-in-law met him in childhood and eventually married Bob's sister. He told a story about going to public school in Dallas in the days before air-conditioning. The windows opened wide in the schoolroom, while the teacher stepped away, Bob positioned himself at the bottom of the window sprawled out and told his friend to tell the teacher that he had jumped. He got suspended 10 days for that prank. Bob's ex-wife told a story about Bob's time in prison - 1967 - in possession of a penny matchbox full of marijuana, Bob received a felony conviction and served for a year in jail where he taught the inmates English. It was a very touching story. Thruout the memorial, attendees were encouraged to introduce themselves to others to tell each other how they had met Bob and to share stories. There were people in attendance from Bob's high school, his family, his wife's family, WordSpace, The Dallas Institute, the Writer's Garrett. Pretty amazing. The program concluded with a singing of a hymn about a sheep finding his way home to the lord. The way the lyrics and chorus were laid out on the page, I had trouble figuring out when to sing what. My friend Karen and I tried to figure it out, but we were just lost lambs.
After the memorial, Kort and I manned the bar where I got a crash course in operating a beer keg (pour out the first few glasses of frothy stuff, and when the hose runs low - remember to pump!) while cracking corks and making a general mess. Yet I wouldn't have been comfortable anywhere else. Short of 6:30, I headed on to the deck for the flyover - the family planned an airplane to scatter Bob's ashes over Whiterock Lake. They were supposed to cell phone the widow, but it never happened, though a plane was seen retreating in the blue sky. Those who were on the deck, report seeing the drop. The minister made a statement about how Bob surprised us yet again.
I have been to two death rituals in my life - the last one before Bob's a funeral when I was in high school for a friend who was killed by a drunk driver. I have to say, Bob's memorial was a wonderfully celebratory and uplifting experience, something to be remembered for a long time.
Karen X didn't get her gospel choir, but several people did sing during the program. Novelist David Searcy who met Bob when both were studying at SMU, talked about Bob's importance as a LOCAL vs. a REGIONAL writer. Bob wrote about the plants in his garden, and the cicadas in Texas, and the history of Jack Ruby and he was very much here, up until the final moments. And when David arrived at the house on Mecca minutes after Bob had passed and gazed down on Bob's body which had been cleaned and dressed, his hair braided with flowers in it and his hands folded over his chest, David knew that Bob had arrived at SINGULARITY. David's delivery had an urgent fire to it, Keroauckian in its delivery and abrupt in its cut-off in the way that Bob would just end a poem before you expected it. Ben Fountain, a local short-story writer spoke of how Bob had mentored him and the challenges of working outside the academic institutions. Yet Bob achieved recognition and respect both in and outside of the academe, and instilled young writers with the confidence to pursue whatever path they need to. Michael, aka "Mr. Natural" aka the "Barefoot Poet" affirmed this after the memorial as well. Two relatives, Bob's brother-in-law and his father-in-law shared funny stories. Bob's brother-in-law met him in childhood and eventually married Bob's sister. He told a story about going to public school in Dallas in the days before air-conditioning. The windows opened wide in the schoolroom, while the teacher stepped away, Bob positioned himself at the bottom of the window sprawled out and told his friend to tell the teacher that he had jumped. He got suspended 10 days for that prank. Bob's ex-wife told a story about Bob's time in prison - 1967 - in possession of a penny matchbox full of marijuana, Bob received a felony conviction and served for a year in jail where he taught the inmates English. It was a very touching story. Thruout the memorial, attendees were encouraged to introduce themselves to others to tell each other how they had met Bob and to share stories. There were people in attendance from Bob's high school, his family, his wife's family, WordSpace, The Dallas Institute, the Writer's Garrett. Pretty amazing. The program concluded with a singing of a hymn about a sheep finding his way home to the lord. The way the lyrics and chorus were laid out on the page, I had trouble figuring out when to sing what. My friend Karen and I tried to figure it out, but we were just lost lambs.
After the memorial, Kort and I manned the bar where I got a crash course in operating a beer keg (pour out the first few glasses of frothy stuff, and when the hose runs low - remember to pump!) while cracking corks and making a general mess. Yet I wouldn't have been comfortable anywhere else. Short of 6:30, I headed on to the deck for the flyover - the family planned an airplane to scatter Bob's ashes over Whiterock Lake. They were supposed to cell phone the widow, but it never happened, though a plane was seen retreating in the blue sky. Those who were on the deck, report seeing the drop. The minister made a statement about how Bob surprised us yet again.
I have been to two death rituals in my life - the last one before Bob's a funeral when I was in high school for a friend who was killed by a drunk driver. I have to say, Bob's memorial was a wonderfully celebratory and uplifting experience, something to be remembered for a long time.
Having a web presence has meant that at least once a month someone random contacts me. The people who contact me thru the website have been great - usually asking for work to various publications, which is very much appreciated, considering I very rarely send work out now. But the emails that outnumber the solicitations are more often requests to collaborate, or requests for information about everything from MFA programs to bookmakers in Taiwan. Note: I am not an authority on anything but my own experience. The requests usually come thru one of my on-line profiles. And they seem as solicitous as messages from strange non-Asian people on myspace or friendster who want to tell me I have "beautiful eyes." Sometimes I just want to ignore them, in the way that I blow off solicitous myspace messages, but for one reason or another, I always feel compelled to answer, even if it's to say, please look elsewhere for your answers.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Heading out from work in 1/2 an hour for Bob Trammell's Memorial at White Rock Lake.
Had a busy weekend in California visiting my dad for father's day. It was the first time in a long time that I can remember visiting my parents without some ridiculous altercation.
While I was waiting in Ontario Airport for my dad to pick me up, an old friend from BU who's now living in L.A. randomly called. This is a friend from my days of interning at Agni Magazine for Askold and Erin, with Valerie and Drew. As an undergrad, Gac published his first short story with the magazine which caught the attention of Nat Sobel in New York. G's now working on a novel, which got sidetracked while working for the film industry. Things he learned in the film industry: that cash makes the world go round. His pockets stuffed with the sort of cash I last saw carried around by my Taiwanese uncles who are suspicious of banks.
With my BF, I also helped another dear friend move furniture to her beach-front condo in the LBC in 90 degree weather. We've been a long time away from the 909. Our friend runs an e-bay business selling designer dolls and collectibles - Barbie, Harry Potter, Star Wars - much of the house serves as a werehouse for the biz which last week pulled in as much as $1200 a week from the sale of six Barbies which have increased in value since she purchased them 2-3 years ago. We had to move the boxes in the basement up to the first floor unit so that workmen could get in to reinforce the concrete walls. Some of the boxes had been there for 4 1/2 years, and a handful had been eaten away by serious black mold damage. I spotted a mushroom growing under one of the wooden pallets - like an optical illusion, because there was no soil where it could take root, the stalk and cap hovering in a spider web.
Had a busy weekend in California visiting my dad for father's day. It was the first time in a long time that I can remember visiting my parents without some ridiculous altercation.
While I was waiting in Ontario Airport for my dad to pick me up, an old friend from BU who's now living in L.A. randomly called. This is a friend from my days of interning at Agni Magazine for Askold and Erin, with Valerie and Drew. As an undergrad, Gac published his first short story with the magazine which caught the attention of Nat Sobel in New York. G's now working on a novel, which got sidetracked while working for the film industry. Things he learned in the film industry: that cash makes the world go round. His pockets stuffed with the sort of cash I last saw carried around by my Taiwanese uncles who are suspicious of banks.
With my BF, I also helped another dear friend move furniture to her beach-front condo in the LBC in 90 degree weather. We've been a long time away from the 909. Our friend runs an e-bay business selling designer dolls and collectibles - Barbie, Harry Potter, Star Wars - much of the house serves as a werehouse for the biz which last week pulled in as much as $1200 a week from the sale of six Barbies which have increased in value since she purchased them 2-3 years ago. We had to move the boxes in the basement up to the first floor unit so that workmen could get in to reinforce the concrete walls. Some of the boxes had been there for 4 1/2 years, and a handful had been eaten away by serious black mold damage. I spotted a mushroom growing under one of the wooden pallets - like an optical illusion, because there was no soil where it could take root, the stalk and cap hovering in a spider web.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
The poetry of Robert Trammell
Robert's memorial is next Tuesday at White Rock Lake. I spent the weekend going thru his books finding poems for his widow that could be read as a prayer at the tribute. Several readers have been clicking over to this site thru the Zafusy portal in England. For those of you who aren't familiar with Robert's work, here are some of his poems. We in Dallas are working on assembling his collected....
From Birds (Barnburner Press, 2003)
My Bird Clock Sings 20 House Wrens Past the Finch
Cats scratch my
window screen
Is it time
to cross over
or to feed the cats?
It is 9:20
It doesn't matter if it's day or night
(I started kissing everything in sight)
until the prettiest Painted Bunting
strikes 10
& the chariot arrrives.
Swing low
coming for to carry me
But the reason the males sing what they sing is that females favor those birds that sing the longest, most complex songs.
Birds & Death
I've seen a picture
of small blue birds flying
from the mouth of a man
dying.
But I can't remember where I saw it.
I asked a friend
who works with Oriental art
at the Kimbell Musem in Ft Worth
if he knew what the picture was & he said
The museum has a statue of a dying man
with notes of a song leaving his mouth.
I said Maybe that's it.
Did the notes have wings?
& were they blue?
He asked No but would you like to hear the song?
I said I don't think so. Not yet.
From Birds (Barnburner Press, 2003)
My Bird Clock Sings 20 House Wrens Past the Finch
Cats scratch my
window screen
Is it time
to cross over
or to feed the cats?
It is 9:20
It doesn't matter if it's day or night
(I started kissing everything in sight)
until the prettiest Painted Bunting
strikes 10
& the chariot arrrives.
Swing low
coming for to carry me
But the reason the males sing what they sing is that females favor those birds that sing the longest, most complex songs.
Birds & Death
I've seen a picture
of small blue birds flying
from the mouth of a man
dying.
But I can't remember where I saw it.
I asked a friend
who works with Oriental art
at the Kimbell Musem in Ft Worth
if he knew what the picture was & he said
The museum has a statue of a dying man
with notes of a song leaving his mouth.
I said Maybe that's it.
Did the notes have wings?
& were they blue?
He asked No but would you like to hear the song?
I said I don't think so. Not yet.
Another day at the salt races....
The ex-priest has a habit of mixing his cliches. On the phone this morning he said to the person at the other end of the phone, "I'm on that...like a dog on food." We all sat around puzzled for awhile, and then one of the editors said aloud, "I think you mean 'like a dog on a bone.' " Another editor piped in "Or white on rice."
Many months before I arrived here, the ex-priest was getting out from a meeting when he said to a colleague, "Well, it's back to the salt races." The person looked at him oddly. Later, he realized it is "salt mines" or "another day at the races."
One of the real estate editors has a heavy smoking habit. He likes to say, "I'm going out to check the weather." He said this one day when it was pouring rain outside, and that's when I realized that he probably wasn't checking the weather. He also likes to say, "I'm going to see a man about a horse." I think this is a euphemism also for smoking, but K says it refers to going to the men's room - i.e. both have a stall.
Many months before I arrived here, the ex-priest was getting out from a meeting when he said to a colleague, "Well, it's back to the salt races." The person looked at him oddly. Later, he realized it is "salt mines" or "another day at the races."
One of the real estate editors has a heavy smoking habit. He likes to say, "I'm going out to check the weather." He said this one day when it was pouring rain outside, and that's when I realized that he probably wasn't checking the weather. He also likes to say, "I'm going to see a man about a horse." I think this is a euphemism also for smoking, but K says it refers to going to the men's room - i.e. both have a stall.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
My friend Nicole who works at The Dallas Museum of Art turned me on to this article about Mei Mei and Richard in a recent edition of The New York Times. The Museum will be opening the Richard Tuttle retrospective on July 16 - the show that was in SF this past Fall.
In other Museum-related news, Capturing Motion opened this weekend. Kort and I stopped at the DMA before the A-KON conference and got to see my poem "Flower, 1949" installed in the galleries. The visual text is on a green background, with the text in blue, red, and black. The poem is on the left wall of the gallery, while the other two walls, behind and to the right of the Alex Calder sculpture are white. I will get some digital snaps from the Museum at some point, but what was interesting were the branches of the sculpture which framed the stanzas of the poem in such a way that it seemed more than coincidence or a happy accident. The lighting of the sculpture produced round discs on the floor of the gallery which mirrored the movement of the poem text as well. Other artworks included in the show are two Berenice Abbot photographs, a John Pomara painting, a Roy Lichtenstein and a few other pieces. Find out more about it here.
And the Louis Tiffany show on view was also pretty amazing. Jewelry designs, windows, lamps and other objets d'arts.
In other Museum-related news, Capturing Motion opened this weekend. Kort and I stopped at the DMA before the A-KON conference and got to see my poem "Flower, 1949" installed in the galleries. The visual text is on a green background, with the text in blue, red, and black. The poem is on the left wall of the gallery, while the other two walls, behind and to the right of the Alex Calder sculpture are white. I will get some digital snaps from the Museum at some point, but what was interesting were the branches of the sculpture which framed the stanzas of the poem in such a way that it seemed more than coincidence or a happy accident. The lighting of the sculpture produced round discs on the floor of the gallery which mirrored the movement of the poem text as well. Other artworks included in the show are two Berenice Abbot photographs, a John Pomara painting, a Roy Lichtenstein and a few other pieces. Find out more about it here.
And the Louis Tiffany show on view was also pretty amazing. Jewelry designs, windows, lamps and other objets d'arts.
Cosplay at A-Kon Dallas
A-Kon Dallas, the anime conference, was in town this weekend and I convinced Kort to go for the photo opps. Actually, there was not that much arm-twisting involved. Kort's been watching a lot of Naruto these last few weeks and I've watched a few clips with him, to the point that we recognized several people dressed up as characters from the cartoon. It was a trippy experience - like Halloween, yet not, lots of good clean wholesome fun with a heavy contingent in highschool, the early 20s representing. Men dominated the conference, while the ladies in attendance opted for sexy outfits.
The Japanese schoolgirl from Kill Bill.
Gal with candied apple stuck to her head.
An angel and his companion.
Buddhist monk with giant mala beads fashioned from coconut shells.
Ninja with sword and videocam.
Characters from Naruto.
The Japanese schoolgirl from Kill Bill.
Gal with candied apple stuck to her head.
An angel and his companion.
Buddhist monk with giant mala beads fashioned from coconut shells.
Ninja with sword and videocam.
Characters from Naruto.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Friday, June 09, 2006
Some events from our friends at La Alameda
Sunday, June 11 7 p.m.
Larry Goodell & Friends
Duende Poetry Series @ the Anasazi Fields Winery in Placitas
Wednesday, June 21 8 p.m.
Stefan Hyner and Lisa Chavez at the Santa Fe Writers Conference
St. Francis Hotel
Come out and celebrate the publication of
Wednesday, July 19 7 p.m.
Harwood Art Center
George Kalamaras, Mary Ann Cain, Mary Rising Higgins and Gene Frumkin
Check out Mary's book red table(s and hear her read from her new book )Cliff Tides((. Mary was working on this book when we were at MacDowell at 2004 - it is tremendous work.
Sunday July 23 7 p.m.
Bob Holman and Gary Glazner
Duende Poetry Series @ Anasazi Fields Winery in Placitas
Larry Goodell & Friends
Duende Poetry Series @ the Anasazi Fields Winery in Placitas
Wednesday, June 21 8 p.m.
Stefan Hyner and Lisa Chavez at the Santa Fe Writers Conference
St. Francis Hotel
Come out and celebrate the publication of
Wednesday, July 19 7 p.m.
Harwood Art Center
George Kalamaras, Mary Ann Cain, Mary Rising Higgins and Gene Frumkin
Check out Mary's book red table(s and hear her read from her new book )Cliff Tides((. Mary was working on this book when we were at MacDowell at 2004 - it is tremendous work.
Sunday July 23 7 p.m.
Bob Holman and Gary Glazner
Duende Poetry Series @ Anasazi Fields Winery in Placitas
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Dancing Tongue Cabaret
Not to be missed this weekend in Dallas. The latest addition to Tim Cloward's performance troupe is the talented Lisa Huffaker, mezzo soprano with the Dallas Opera.
The community
A few weeks ago, I got together with a friend and Naropa alum, Karen X for dinner at our favorite vegetarian restaurant, Kalachandji's (the Hare Krishna palace). We went out with two young women, close in age to me, one is a first-class hairdresser and the other is a high school art teacher. We all have in common Karen X and the yoga studio which we go to in Lakewood. That and Sarah cuts our hair and makes us look like sexy goddesses. Karen and Kristin had both done the Total Life Cleanse which Kort and I will be embarking on on June 24. Sarah has been adopting some of the lifestyle changes from the cleanse, though she hasn't actually done the TLC. So we toasted to Swedish bitters, which tasted like mild black licorice.
I looked in my refrigerator last weekend and saw nothing but wheat products. Three loaves of different kinds of bread - olive, rosemary and cinnamon from Kalachandji's. I am glad that we will be giving up wheat..and dairy...and processed foods.
I looked in my refrigerator last weekend and saw nothing but wheat products. Three loaves of different kinds of bread - olive, rosemary and cinnamon from Kalachandji's. I am glad that we will be giving up wheat..and dairy...and processed foods.
Some co-workers were talking about Jie Jie the three-armed baby this morning. It's a story that's concerned me for a few days - -birth deformity surely being a reflection of the rampant environmental pollution and health care issues facing people in China. So co-worker #1 wonders what happens to Jie Jie's surgically removed arm. The recently reinstated middle-aged freelancer who had been "let go" and then invited back when the company couldn't find anyone else commented "Well in China, you never know...." I snapped at him; I wanted to say - "Yeah, that's about as funny as you losing your job, HA HA" but instead I said that's totally inappropriate. To quote Angry Asian Man, that's racist
Monday, June 05, 2006
On tour
Gao Ping in the recording studio
My dear friend the composer Gao Ping will be performing in the U.S. for the next few weeks. Check out the good press he received from the Detroit Free Press here. Catch him at the Great Lakes Chamber Music Festival from June 10-25. And pick up his new CD from Naxos, which can be previewed at GP's website and purchased from the Naxos site. Composer extraordinaire!
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