"CELEBRATE OCTOBER 10, 2005
THE SIXTH INTERNATIONAL POWERS OF 10 DAY
This year for Powers of Ten Day (10/10/05) we will explore Chairs. It's always a remarkable experience to look at our lives from the next largest and next smallest perspective and to ponder Charles Eames' words, "Eventually, everything connects." For those visitors new to Powers of 10, learn more by reading the history of the event, below.
Why a Powers of Ten Day?
In 1977, Charles and Ray Eames made a nine-minute film called Powers of Ten that still has the capacity today to expand the way we think and view our world. Over ten million people have since seen the film and it continues to be shown in classrooms, business meetings, festivals and retreats everywhere. Starting with a sleeping man at a picnic, the film takes the viewer on a journey out to the edge of space and then back into a carbon atom in the hand of the man picnic, all in a single shot. It is an unforgettable experience.
After pondering the impact and influence this short piece still generates, we thought it might be valuable to create a special forum for thinking in terms of scale and applying this cross-disciplinary approach to all subjects. Each October 10th, the Eames Office now celebrates Powers of Ten Day to promote and share this method of viewing ideas from an infinitesimal to a cosmic perspective. Much like a knowledge of geography which allows us to place locations near or far in our mind's maps, an understanding of scale allows us to organize our thinking and experience in terms of size. On October 10, 2000, we addressed the environment with Powers of Ten thinking and began understand ecology, botany, geology, etc. from a new perspective. This year on 10/10/05, we will use Chairs as a springboard for such study. Our hope is to create a community of awareness that we believe can help stretch our understanding and even tolerance. After all, at 10-4, our physical differences become invisible to the human eye."
(http://powersof10.com/events/tenday.php)
oh, i am in a state of disbelief and vindication all at once. rejoice, there are others who celebrate 10.10 as well. and so properly, utterly perfectly.
yesterday, i walked into the physics geolgy building for the first time. to make my way to the 5th floor for a moonrise viewing, with fresh kettle corn in hand, i entered the elevator. there, was a chair. on a spring. attached to a post. upon which are hatch marks and ordered numbers. glee, my companion and me, scrambling on to the chair before lift off to floor five. baaruuuM. immediate laugher, this is physics simplified exemplified. the chair is on wheels - perhaps we should take it to the roof. so we started to move it into the hallway, but it quickly came clear that this chair absolutely belonged with the elevator. although we left it there in the hallway, upon my return after nightfall, the chair had been replaced in the elevator, and so again i joyfully partook of obvious relativity.
in a flash it was clear that the chair was destined for my final video project. from there rolled the idea that this final one would be a science one. a satisfying moment of assuredness after just saying that afternoon how the final project is so wide open, where should my lens go? the final project is meant to be an imaginary collaboration. after choosing an artist(s), researching and writing a (too) brief paper on he/she/them, the student will make a video in imaginary collaboration. no boundaries there.
later, bike riding home, where good clean thoughts are wont to transpire, while ruminating on the nascent science video... that bouncing chair... the cosmology posters in the hallways...
i thought of the powers of 10.
and yes, ray and charles eames shall be my collaborators. oh, how exciting to work with them.
and now, for the first time this quarter, i'm reading feverishly in academic pursuit. oh ray and charles, partners and see-ers and workers and designers and lovers and collaborators two. i am looking forward to learning from you. and i am jubilant in celebrating the powers of 10.
11.17.2005
10.11.2005
flimschool
i'm taking a video production class. ART 116: video practice and theory
there are so many things i like about this class. sometimes we watch films and videos. sometimees we talk tech. sometimes we learn to use software at the computers. sometimes we talk about art.
then i go out and look through a camera and decide. i used to be fearful and self conscious of the camera - it alters the experience, i don't want to draw attention to the moment, i don't want to blow it out of proportion, i just want it to be. but yesterday, in the back yard with scarf and sun dapple, all the things i thought about scarf changed, i saw scarf anew. pretty trite, i know, ooh, look at the scarf in the wind, oh, now look how flowers look under its semi transparency. but it's ok for now, while i'm in the beginning.
and today, today we watched something extra special. so special that we almost didn't watch it at all. our TA said, well we were gonna watch this one about a childbirth, but [me and the professor] watched it last night and it was so graphic, so intense, we decide not to show it in class. no no, let us watch, i pleaded. the girl with the dreads seconded. and so we watched, except for student man in his ~early forties, who just kept his head down. see this flim: window water baby moving, by stan brakhage. it's only 12 minutes. i just did a search and couldn't find a free version. it's not the nova childbirth prime time wonder of science extravaganza. it's love and blood and hands and youth and grimace and waiting and tenderness and disbelief and belief.
and afterward, yes it illicited alot of talking. and yes, some about how parts were disgusting, and then the comment, lamenting that we find the image of bringing of life so gross that we are rarely exposed to it, but death we can see time and time again (i know, mostly fake deaths, it's true). and then later, talking with a friend on a different topic, of safe sex, and how it seems many of us (the us i know) are willing to risk disease, lifelong or fatal, but we are so much more careful with the risk of conceiving a child. willing to expose ourselves to the dark of sickness and subject to a fate of medicine, but so much less willing to potentially create new unknown life. oh, great mystery of aliveness
there are so many things i like about this class. sometimes we watch films and videos. sometimees we talk tech. sometimes we learn to use software at the computers. sometimes we talk about art.
then i go out and look through a camera and decide. i used to be fearful and self conscious of the camera - it alters the experience, i don't want to draw attention to the moment, i don't want to blow it out of proportion, i just want it to be. but yesterday, in the back yard with scarf and sun dapple, all the things i thought about scarf changed, i saw scarf anew. pretty trite, i know, ooh, look at the scarf in the wind, oh, now look how flowers look under its semi transparency. but it's ok for now, while i'm in the beginning.
and today, today we watched something extra special. so special that we almost didn't watch it at all. our TA said, well we were gonna watch this one about a childbirth, but [me and the professor] watched it last night and it was so graphic, so intense, we decide not to show it in class. no no, let us watch, i pleaded. the girl with the dreads seconded. and so we watched, except for student man in his ~early forties, who just kept his head down. see this flim: window water baby moving, by stan brakhage. it's only 12 minutes. i just did a search and couldn't find a free version. it's not the nova childbirth prime time wonder of science extravaganza. it's love and blood and hands and youth and grimace and waiting and tenderness and disbelief and belief.
and afterward, yes it illicited alot of talking. and yes, some about how parts were disgusting, and then the comment, lamenting that we find the image of bringing of life so gross that we are rarely exposed to it, but death we can see time and time again (i know, mostly fake deaths, it's true). and then later, talking with a friend on a different topic, of safe sex, and how it seems many of us (the us i know) are willing to risk disease, lifelong or fatal, but we are so much more careful with the risk of conceiving a child. willing to expose ourselves to the dark of sickness and subject to a fate of medicine, but so much less willing to potentially create new unknown life. oh, great mystery of aliveness
7.18.2005
middlegate, nv population 18… 17... 14.
just one day, the very first full day. began it at a stranger’s house – jane. we dropped off our playa bikes at her place in sparks last night. she asked us where we were staying for the night, and we weren’t sure yet, and she offered her floor. then she directed us to the vegetarian diner in reno. i’ll be seeing her in six weeks when I fetch the bikes, and she said I was welcome to stay at her place again.
off interstate highway 80 right quick, onto route 50. the loneliest highway in america. california all the way to boardwalk ocean city, md straight shot from the pacific to vinegar fries and t shirt decals. but in between… in between there is middlegate, ‘in the middle of nowhere’. where there is a bar general store grill toilet motel set upon the desert. with a rickety front porch with table and rocking rolling chairs made of old wood barrels, and through the creaky screen door, you are there. there are dollar bills stapled covering the ceiling and the rafters, with notes written in sharpies. there are novelty postcards, plaques in memory of the desert dad, 1933-2003, impressive mounted antlers, a bumpersticker proclaiming ‘i love animals: they’re delicious”, a computer, an open area with three guitars for the weekends, and people. beards and cutoffs and tattoos and beers and smokes in hands, at 2pm. she came from new Orleans, he’s the 3 time champion fiddle player, she lost her purse off her motorcycle 20 miles back, and somebody just called her to let her know it was found. come on and pick it up, honey, it’s still got your five hundred dollars in it, the money that will last you the rest of your ride.
and don’t you know, sitting at the bar, swillin and smoking, he pulls out his fiddle, and he takes up the guitar, and without any pomp, just start playing. and the singing, low and his own. “i see your waist is slender your fingers they are small, your cheeks too red and rosy to face the cannonball” “i know my waist is slender my fingers they are small, it would not make me tremble to see ten thousand fall”
i’m back on the road now, headed east, towards a stand of bristlecone pines. the oldest living beings on earth. but i’d been happy to stay in the middle of nowhere.
off interstate highway 80 right quick, onto route 50. the loneliest highway in america. california all the way to boardwalk ocean city, md straight shot from the pacific to vinegar fries and t shirt decals. but in between… in between there is middlegate, ‘in the middle of nowhere’. where there is a bar general store grill toilet motel set upon the desert. with a rickety front porch with table and rocking rolling chairs made of old wood barrels, and through the creaky screen door, you are there. there are dollar bills stapled covering the ceiling and the rafters, with notes written in sharpies. there are novelty postcards, plaques in memory of the desert dad, 1933-2003, impressive mounted antlers, a bumpersticker proclaiming ‘i love animals: they’re delicious”, a computer, an open area with three guitars for the weekends, and people. beards and cutoffs and tattoos and beers and smokes in hands, at 2pm. she came from new Orleans, he’s the 3 time champion fiddle player, she lost her purse off her motorcycle 20 miles back, and somebody just called her to let her know it was found. come on and pick it up, honey, it’s still got your five hundred dollars in it, the money that will last you the rest of your ride.
and don’t you know, sitting at the bar, swillin and smoking, he pulls out his fiddle, and he takes up the guitar, and without any pomp, just start playing. and the singing, low and his own. “i see your waist is slender your fingers they are small, your cheeks too red and rosy to face the cannonball” “i know my waist is slender my fingers they are small, it would not make me tremble to see ten thousand fall”
i’m back on the road now, headed east, towards a stand of bristlecone pines. the oldest living beings on earth. but i’d been happy to stay in the middle of nowhere.
6.22.2005
class: in session/out for summer
oh what a lightening of load - it is my first full week of summer vacay, and although i have a job and thesis work to do, i feel so free. and i am super excited about guiltless reading for pleasure. i feel like i just discovered that one can use the university library for more than research. and so i ILL'd rushdie's 'the ground beneath her feet,' and just today checked out "red emma speaks" and "living my life." since i saw a biographical show on emma goldman last year on pbs, she's been in my pantheon and i've been wanting to know more. and so, i'm pleased to cut the ribbon on the summer session of carrie university.
out on the patio, dinnertime, i just read one of her essays: Marriage and Love
it's a thankful challenge to imagine where she was coming from, so harsh on marriage is she, in her eyes and heart a show of man's superiority and female opression. it's no wonder she raised feathers, really heralding non-marital sex for enjoyment and ecstasy. but oh, she is a believer in love, and it is dramatic in her writing, which for summertime is just right. all this, and i went to a new (to me) women's health clinic. a feminist women's health clinic, where all services were free to me, and i was handed birth control pills without question, i was offered a speculum to take home to see my own cervix, and without requesting it, a package of emergency contraception. how do you like that, emma?
last night talking with my soon-to-be housemate, i expressed my hesitation in taking a women's studies class - i'm not sure i want to walk around with that lens for 10-plus weeks, i just feel sure that it would make me scowl too much. but it appears that i've signed up today for just that. i would like to know more, i would like to talk to the crones and know the changes over the years. better or worse mrs. vanek, so vibrant and gossipy and 80 years and married forever? what say you aunt jean, so adventurous and independent and then you married in your 40s and now it's your husband and dog? always fighting fighting for more, but it's important to see all that came before.
out on the patio, dinnertime, i just read one of her essays: Marriage and Love
it's a thankful challenge to imagine where she was coming from, so harsh on marriage is she, in her eyes and heart a show of man's superiority and female opression. it's no wonder she raised feathers, really heralding non-marital sex for enjoyment and ecstasy. but oh, she is a believer in love, and it is dramatic in her writing, which for summertime is just right. all this, and i went to a new (to me) women's health clinic. a feminist women's health clinic, where all services were free to me, and i was handed birth control pills without question, i was offered a speculum to take home to see my own cervix, and without requesting it, a package of emergency contraception. how do you like that, emma?
last night talking with my soon-to-be housemate, i expressed my hesitation in taking a women's studies class - i'm not sure i want to walk around with that lens for 10-plus weeks, i just feel sure that it would make me scowl too much. but it appears that i've signed up today for just that. i would like to know more, i would like to talk to the crones and know the changes over the years. better or worse mrs. vanek, so vibrant and gossipy and 80 years and married forever? what say you aunt jean, so adventurous and independent and then you married in your 40s and now it's your husband and dog? always fighting fighting for more, but it's important to see all that came before.
5.17.2005
instead of writing my paper due tomorrow at 1pm
this post is goodbye kisses after someone you just spent the night with, but his/her mouth is new to you. the whole damn person is new to you. and we were up till the wee hours, and oh cozy sleep, and hmm, we don't really want to get out of bed, but you've got to go to work and i've got class, of course i'd be happy to drop you off at the bus stop...okay bye (okay we just shared these intimate times and were kissing all night and of course we should be kissing goodbye) ...and kiss...but this kiss is coming from a different place, isn't it? uh-huh. and it's not really the place all that lip-locking was coming from the night before, eh? but that's how it ends, the departure is on this sweet and sunny 'have a good day at work' note, which, while yes, sweet and sunny and you're all high anyways so it feels just fine, seems truly so inappropriate, unaligned.
5.07.2005
welcome, new students
i talked up being single for quite a while. i asked questions. i observed. i pondered the meeting of strangers, the taking home of them, the exchanges of phone numbers or emails. i was titillated by the stories of others. for many years prior, i sat on the other side of the fence - where my friends would scold me for my naivité, in expecting all those 'dates' with strangers to be innocent efforts at making new friends. "you fool, they are looking for more than friendship." or, "you are leading them on." and i would fight back (and still do). oh, all the fighting i've done in favor of the platonic.
but here i am, in the thick of it now. and unlike the marriage research, i'm learning quick that all the interviews in the world are no alternative to diving in to living it (as always). and there's really not much point in talking about it because it's more a feeling than anything else, fortified by a healthy dose of spring, although sure, yes, i'm sure you know what i'm talking about. and i certainly feel ages behind, feel like a teenager or something all of a sudden. or like a sophomore undergrad. so let's dive in, shall we, canary girl? let's find out about the awkward and the exhilarating, about the shaking of hips and the shaking of heads, about the surprise of a sunrise and the morning after. you know, i've been walking around my not-so-new hometown for months now, not really caring how i looked. dress up and style were mostly for trips to my fair city. funny how all that can change so quickly. some one could see me. bittersweet to halt my slovenly.
tonight i hung out with some classmates. the last 2 guests at the married couple's house were only single ones there. oh, dear reader, can you recall, or do you still live, where this world was unfolding for you? where butterflies abound?
but here i am, in the thick of it now. and unlike the marriage research, i'm learning quick that all the interviews in the world are no alternative to diving in to living it (as always). and there's really not much point in talking about it because it's more a feeling than anything else, fortified by a healthy dose of spring, although sure, yes, i'm sure you know what i'm talking about. and i certainly feel ages behind, feel like a teenager or something all of a sudden. or like a sophomore undergrad. so let's dive in, shall we, canary girl? let's find out about the awkward and the exhilarating, about the shaking of hips and the shaking of heads, about the surprise of a sunrise and the morning after. you know, i've been walking around my not-so-new hometown for months now, not really caring how i looked. dress up and style were mostly for trips to my fair city. funny how all that can change so quickly. some one could see me. bittersweet to halt my slovenly.
tonight i hung out with some classmates. the last 2 guests at the married couple's house were only single ones there. oh, dear reader, can you recall, or do you still live, where this world was unfolding for you? where butterflies abound?
5.02.2005
Canary-birds pair in a state of nature, but the breeders in England succesfully put the male to four or five females. I have noticed these cases, as rendering it probable that wild monogamous species might readily become either temporarily or permanently polyamorous.
~Charles Darwin, The Descent of Man
~Charles Darwin, The Descent of Man
4.21.2005
nightshade
with one leg exposed, toe to hip, coolwarm air through furhair
and the other cloaked in the twenty year cotton once donned by my mother
both cycling up and down through the soft darkness
the scent of jasmine was ten times more intoxicating
than any brew i sippped while the sound of lonely banjo picking
wafted through the delta
and the other cloaked in the twenty year cotton once donned by my mother
both cycling up and down through the soft darkness
the scent of jasmine was ten times more intoxicating
than any brew i sippped while the sound of lonely banjo picking
wafted through the delta
4.20.2005
not so fast
i'd been waiting a long time. it was at least a year ago when i began anticipating the passing of pope john paul II. because i was ready for a change on a global scale, and because i wanted to see firsthand the whole fiasco.
jp II is the only pope i've ever known, and compared to the multitude of catholics worldwide, my exposure was probably more than most: between sophomore and junior year of high school, i made a pilgrimage to world youth day with a handful of other young faithfuls from my church, under the auspices of getting together with tens of thousands of other young catholics to be with the pope and revel in our christianity. really, i was going because it was a free trip to colorado, the farthest west i'd ever been. god must have known my deviant reasons and it was the most horrendous week ever. but, i did get to see the pope driving his pope mobile around mile high stadium, and i camped out in cherry creek state park to wake up to hear jp II giving mass the next morning, after a night of whispered disbelief that the swedes were -naked- in their sleeping bags because 'it's warmer that way.'
the next time i saw him was accidental. i happened to be visiting vatican city on the day of his weekly meet and greet. or, greet and bless. this is a big event for some folks, and obviously some travelers had come in groups, replete in matching t-shirts (or habits). of course, the all knowing jp II made sure to give special shout-outs to these devout pilgrims, and when he called them by name, they all hollered and waved. i watched for a while, then headed in to see hundreds of years of catholic treasure booty in the vatican museum.*
so, finally the time which i awaited has arrived. i found out from nytimes online. which also presented me with slide shows about those in the race for next pope. theoretically, there's no "race," but it's likely the campaigning has been going on for quite some time. oh, what promise for something transformative - this was not a simple u.s. election, it was a coming together of spiritual leaders (albeit from one sect) from the world over. would it be an african? south american? an acknowledgement of healthy change and the need to renew? no. it shall be an old fogey, soon to die. perhaps his old ways will pass with him. perhaps not.
around the same time that i began to look forward to the changing of the papacy, i also began to feel deep inside that it is time for a female president of the united states. and so now i re-turn my attention, and patiently pray on a bumper sticker i saw a few weeks ago: hillary and oprah 2008.
*(while i will not at this time begin a rant about the implications of vatican's incredibly vast horde, i will say this: when i attempted to enter the enclosed parts of the vatican (as opposed to the main piazza, into which you can just wander) the two italian guards checked my bag, as was their job. they found the swiss army knife that i'd been carrying all over the continent. they pointed to the five gallon drum for discards beside them. i gave a desparate glance to my traveling partner and said half to him and half to the guards, "this was my grandfather's knife. i can't leave it here. i can't go in." (it was totally true, but after spending a few weeks in italy i also understood the insane respect and reverence for family). they looked at me, let down their guard, lowered their voices, and made the appropriate hand gestures to indicate that i should put the knife in my bag and come on in. this was the greatest example of compassion i witnessed at the vatican.)
jp II is the only pope i've ever known, and compared to the multitude of catholics worldwide, my exposure was probably more than most: between sophomore and junior year of high school, i made a pilgrimage to world youth day with a handful of other young faithfuls from my church, under the auspices of getting together with tens of thousands of other young catholics to be with the pope and revel in our christianity. really, i was going because it was a free trip to colorado, the farthest west i'd ever been. god must have known my deviant reasons and it was the most horrendous week ever. but, i did get to see the pope driving his pope mobile around mile high stadium, and i camped out in cherry creek state park to wake up to hear jp II giving mass the next morning, after a night of whispered disbelief that the swedes were -naked- in their sleeping bags because 'it's warmer that way.'
the next time i saw him was accidental. i happened to be visiting vatican city on the day of his weekly meet and greet. or, greet and bless. this is a big event for some folks, and obviously some travelers had come in groups, replete in matching t-shirts (or habits). of course, the all knowing jp II made sure to give special shout-outs to these devout pilgrims, and when he called them by name, they all hollered and waved. i watched for a while, then headed in to see hundreds of years of catholic treasure booty in the vatican museum.*
so, finally the time which i awaited has arrived. i found out from nytimes online. which also presented me with slide shows about those in the race for next pope. theoretically, there's no "race," but it's likely the campaigning has been going on for quite some time. oh, what promise for something transformative - this was not a simple u.s. election, it was a coming together of spiritual leaders (albeit from one sect) from the world over. would it be an african? south american? an acknowledgement of healthy change and the need to renew? no. it shall be an old fogey, soon to die. perhaps his old ways will pass with him. perhaps not.
around the same time that i began to look forward to the changing of the papacy, i also began to feel deep inside that it is time for a female president of the united states. and so now i re-turn my attention, and patiently pray on a bumper sticker i saw a few weeks ago: hillary and oprah 2008.
*(while i will not at this time begin a rant about the implications of vatican's incredibly vast horde, i will say this: when i attempted to enter the enclosed parts of the vatican (as opposed to the main piazza, into which you can just wander) the two italian guards checked my bag, as was their job. they found the swiss army knife that i'd been carrying all over the continent. they pointed to the five gallon drum for discards beside them. i gave a desparate glance to my traveling partner and said half to him and half to the guards, "this was my grandfather's knife. i can't leave it here. i can't go in." (it was totally true, but after spending a few weeks in italy i also understood the insane respect and reverence for family). they looked at me, let down their guard, lowered their voices, and made the appropriate hand gestures to indicate that i should put the knife in my bag and come on in. this was the greatest example of compassion i witnessed at the vatican.)
3.15.2005
present tense
it's happening.
everybody recognizes it. sometimes we talk aboout it, oftentimes it goes unsaid. there is the occasional knowing glance.
changes are afoot.
the next timesten you see me, call me fred astir.
everybody recognizes it. sometimes we talk aboout it, oftentimes it goes unsaid. there is the occasional knowing glance.
changes are afoot.
the next timesten you see me, call me fred astir.
3.09.2005
*
i try hard, but not hard enough, not to skip to the end of the page/paragraph/scene. to the part where you know the juice is gonna be. its like, i get so excited about what's gonna happen, it's building up and higher, and the next few sentences are probably where the author is really at one's most poignant, but my eyes just
-jump-
to the last sentence, to the sigh.
then i go back up again,
a bit higher then where i left off
but of course you can never get back the initial exhilaration.
surprising, since i can leave christmas presents under the tree with nary a shake for the full length of advent, and i've often left envelopes unopened for hours or sometimes days to savor the slice of the knife through the paper and the ensuing read. but once the reading begins*
-jump-
to the last sentence, to the sigh.
then i go back up again,
a bit higher then where i left off
but of course you can never get back the initial exhilaration.
surprising, since i can leave christmas presents under the tree with nary a shake for the full length of advent, and i've often left envelopes unopened for hours or sometimes days to savor the slice of the knife through the paper and the ensuing read. but once the reading begins*
in case you were wondering
i just watched the last four episodes of sex in the city.
the last four ever.
(if you don't want to know anything more about this stop reading)*
they each end up with someone.
yep, all the single girls have a partner in the end.
huh.
the last four ever.
(if you don't want to know anything more about this stop reading)*
they each end up with someone.
yep, all the single girls have a partner in the end.
huh.
3.02.2005
115395
is the number of the citation i was handed today, from the police officer who pulled me over after allegedly running a stop sign. while on my bicycle. i have been pulled over in a car before, but never handed a piece of paper in the process. i have been at a red light well past midnight and too full of libations, with one police officer behind me, and another one next to me, who motioned to me to roll down my window and informed me that i ought to turn on my lights. but again, and thankfully, no piece of paper. in each of those situations, my reaction is to just react with my most honest feeling.
and so it was today. but, that feeling was one of...well, i saw the flashing lights, and there she was in her car right next to me in the bike lane, her window rolled down and telling me to "pull over." which made me smile and nearly laugh, cause at my speed in a bike lane with her so close to me, "pulling over" is such an overstatement, i mean, i could and did just stop immediately. when you're in the bike lane, you're so close to being in a state of perpetual pulled over, except in motion. anyways, it set a sort of mood of ridiculousness on the whole interaction for me. but she was all business, and i couldn't be too upset with her. i did not fully stop, though i was far from zipping on through that intersection. and i looked in all directions - ALL directions - that's the thing, i always look behind me when approaching a stop sign. to look for cops. but today john law was driving behind a big old pickup truck, and so, obscured. the morning, especially the morning-out-of-doors on a pleasant day, and i wanted to talk, and learn about this woman's experiences as a police officer. but all the introductory questions that ran through my head seemed like they would sound rude or spiteful or something. i noticed her dark hair had dyed light streaks like mine, the kind that obviously don't belong there, and that was a reminder. the only break from business conversation was at the very end. she told me she was giving me a citation, then she started walking back to her car, and i said 'wait, what does this mean?' "it's not a ticket," because i was on a bike, not in a car. okay, is there a fee? yes, but i don't know how much. REALLY? i mean, i could not help my disbelief from coming out. in general, how can you hand someone a paper that could potentially really impact them, depending on their financial situation, and not even know the cost? she proceeded to show me the folded-like-a-map, abridged version of the traffic code, just a glance really, to show just how much detail was in there, and that she could not be held responsible for knowing all of its contents, now really could she? it ended after that, and i vowed to try to stop running stop lights, and go back to the good little bicyclist i was when i first moved to davis.
but, on the ride home tonight, on deserted, unlit roads, i twice found myself braking after the fact. i also found myself rehasing the incident in my head, except this time really arguing with her, or making it difficult, or simply defending myself more. no, just asking lots and lots and lots of questions. why? you figure out how old i am, no need to ask, you've written down my birthdate. does it matter whether i'm going to school or waht my destination is? (this was her first question, i wish i'd answered differently)
anyways, today, i, one of 14 people in davis who actually wears a helmet while riding, was pulled over and cited for unsafe bicycling. raise your glass high, and then toss it on the floor, on the evening of this very special occasion.
and so it was today. but, that feeling was one of...well, i saw the flashing lights, and there she was in her car right next to me in the bike lane, her window rolled down and telling me to "pull over." which made me smile and nearly laugh, cause at my speed in a bike lane with her so close to me, "pulling over" is such an overstatement, i mean, i could and did just stop immediately. when you're in the bike lane, you're so close to being in a state of perpetual pulled over, except in motion. anyways, it set a sort of mood of ridiculousness on the whole interaction for me. but she was all business, and i couldn't be too upset with her. i did not fully stop, though i was far from zipping on through that intersection. and i looked in all directions - ALL directions - that's the thing, i always look behind me when approaching a stop sign. to look for cops. but today john law was driving behind a big old pickup truck, and so, obscured. the morning, especially the morning-out-of-doors on a pleasant day, and i wanted to talk, and learn about this woman's experiences as a police officer. but all the introductory questions that ran through my head seemed like they would sound rude or spiteful or something. i noticed her dark hair had dyed light streaks like mine, the kind that obviously don't belong there, and that was a reminder. the only break from business conversation was at the very end. she told me she was giving me a citation, then she started walking back to her car, and i said 'wait, what does this mean?' "it's not a ticket," because i was on a bike, not in a car. okay, is there a fee? yes, but i don't know how much. REALLY? i mean, i could not help my disbelief from coming out. in general, how can you hand someone a paper that could potentially really impact them, depending on their financial situation, and not even know the cost? she proceeded to show me the folded-like-a-map, abridged version of the traffic code, just a glance really, to show just how much detail was in there, and that she could not be held responsible for knowing all of its contents, now really could she? it ended after that, and i vowed to try to stop running stop lights, and go back to the good little bicyclist i was when i first moved to davis.
but, on the ride home tonight, on deserted, unlit roads, i twice found myself braking after the fact. i also found myself rehasing the incident in my head, except this time really arguing with her, or making it difficult, or simply defending myself more. no, just asking lots and lots and lots of questions. why? you figure out how old i am, no need to ask, you've written down my birthdate. does it matter whether i'm going to school or waht my destination is? (this was her first question, i wish i'd answered differently)
anyways, today, i, one of 14 people in davis who actually wears a helmet while riding, was pulled over and cited for unsafe bicycling. raise your glass high, and then toss it on the floor, on the evening of this very special occasion.
2.22.2005
2.14.2005
grammy recap
i unexpectedly ended up at a college buddy's apartment in vacaville vatching the grammys tonight.
a feast for the eyes.
(more so than the ears)
but here are some times ten highlights of grammy night:
-prince was not there to receive his award.
-lynyrd skynard and friends playing freebird (well, just the first half, not the rockin half)
-queen latifah was the host. first, she referred to herself as the host as opposed to the hostess. second, it's queen latifah being host of the grammys. raise your feminist flag high.
-stevie wonder opening the "and the winner is" envelope and reading the recipient in braille.
-this was not a highlight necessarily, but there was this big all star studding singing of john lennon's 'across the universe' wherein one could log onto itunes and download it and all the proceeds go to tsunami relief. no comment there, it's just that during the final, drawn out, chant-y chorus, they replaced "nothing's gonna change my world" to "something's gotta change this world" or "someone's gotta change this world" or some combination of (probably both given the amount of people on stage). i don't know what to make of this change of lyrics. my gut tells me it is not favorable. don't fuck with that shit.
-also not a highlight exactly, but the president or resident bigwig of the grammy academy, or recording industry emperor or what have you, going on and on about the beauty of the music industry, as is exemplified by all the money we'll raise for tsunami relief when you go to itunes and legally download. and legally downloading, and legally downloading, and legally downloading...
able to watch with a relatively openmind. (pat on the back). vorth vatching next year? nah...
a feast for the eyes.
(more so than the ears)
but here are some times ten highlights of grammy night:
-prince was not there to receive his award.
-lynyrd skynard and friends playing freebird (well, just the first half, not the rockin half)
-queen latifah was the host. first, she referred to herself as the host as opposed to the hostess. second, it's queen latifah being host of the grammys. raise your feminist flag high.
-stevie wonder opening the "and the winner is" envelope and reading the recipient in braille.
-this was not a highlight necessarily, but there was this big all star studding singing of john lennon's 'across the universe' wherein one could log onto itunes and download it and all the proceeds go to tsunami relief. no comment there, it's just that during the final, drawn out, chant-y chorus, they replaced "nothing's gonna change my world" to "something's gotta change this world" or "someone's gotta change this world" or some combination of (probably both given the amount of people on stage). i don't know what to make of this change of lyrics. my gut tells me it is not favorable. don't fuck with that shit.
-also not a highlight exactly, but the president or resident bigwig of the grammy academy, or recording industry emperor or what have you, going on and on about the beauty of the music industry, as is exemplified by all the money we'll raise for tsunami relief when you go to itunes and legally download. and legally downloading, and legally downloading, and legally downloading...
able to watch with a relatively openmind. (pat on the back). vorth vatching next year? nah...
2.11.2005
small axe
i like traffic intersections. i still have my lifelong interest in women's restrooms, but traffic intersections are the community study du jour.
this week in our bioregion seminar, lead completely by grad students (there's no faculty member present, even), sitting outside on the grass on a beautiful sunny day, the topic of conversation was 'regional transportation systems.' what is a regional transportation system - what does it look like, who does it serve, how could it work? which lead to discussion of the present road system, the american individual driving freedom thing, which of course degenerated into the 'what is wrong with people today, where are people's values?' conversation, with requisite walmart references. davis is unique for its strong bicycling ethic, which gave a twist to the talking - complaints about drivers not noticing bicycles and the such. some people were talking alot, and so by the time there was a rest in conversation, i decided not to say my bit (for a few different reasons).
which was, this. i've been encouraging interaction at intersections. just in my own life. the big intersection right before i get to my home, with a traffic light. i pass by slow enough on my bike to make eye contact with the people i pass by, waiting for the red light to change. i smile at them. i smile at them even bigger if they are singing - yeah, i know you're having fun singing in your car, i do that too sometimes. then i keep riding and the light changes. but there, you saw me from inside your big hunk of steel and i saw you while my legs were working. it's very simple, i know. but in the short amount of time i've been learning about community development from an academic standpoint, when i combine it with my preference for life-sized personal doing that's what i get: interaction at the intersection.
so just now, i was riding home, a friday evening, the weekend is starting ride home, and i approach my intersection. the light is red, and i hit the crosswalk button. across the big street, someone else has been waiting on his bike, to come in the other direction. he's really hitting the crosswalk button a lot (it makes a loud noise if you do it right). at first i'm a little condescending about the impatience he seems to exude. then i decide to just hit my button lots, too. i stop, he starts up again. silence, then a few bangs from me. back and forth, but not at all in a call and response way.no recogintion of the other person, very natural. just felt to me like sharing the waiting time together. then the light changed, and i passed by an 11 year old boy with glasses.he was smiling and so was i.
this week in our bioregion seminar, lead completely by grad students (there's no faculty member present, even), sitting outside on the grass on a beautiful sunny day, the topic of conversation was 'regional transportation systems.' what is a regional transportation system - what does it look like, who does it serve, how could it work? which lead to discussion of the present road system, the american individual driving freedom thing, which of course degenerated into the 'what is wrong with people today, where are people's values?' conversation, with requisite walmart references. davis is unique for its strong bicycling ethic, which gave a twist to the talking - complaints about drivers not noticing bicycles and the such. some people were talking alot, and so by the time there was a rest in conversation, i decided not to say my bit (for a few different reasons).
which was, this. i've been encouraging interaction at intersections. just in my own life. the big intersection right before i get to my home, with a traffic light. i pass by slow enough on my bike to make eye contact with the people i pass by, waiting for the red light to change. i smile at them. i smile at them even bigger if they are singing - yeah, i know you're having fun singing in your car, i do that too sometimes. then i keep riding and the light changes. but there, you saw me from inside your big hunk of steel and i saw you while my legs were working. it's very simple, i know. but in the short amount of time i've been learning about community development from an academic standpoint, when i combine it with my preference for life-sized personal doing that's what i get: interaction at the intersection.
so just now, i was riding home, a friday evening, the weekend is starting ride home, and i approach my intersection. the light is red, and i hit the crosswalk button. across the big street, someone else has been waiting on his bike, to come in the other direction. he's really hitting the crosswalk button a lot (it makes a loud noise if you do it right). at first i'm a little condescending about the impatience he seems to exude. then i decide to just hit my button lots, too. i stop, he starts up again. silence, then a few bangs from me. back and forth, but not at all in a call and response way.no recogintion of the other person, very natural. just felt to me like sharing the waiting time together. then the light changed, and i passed by an 11 year old boy with glasses.he was smiling and so was i.
1.31.2005
it has been _____ days since my last
.very slow ride home tonight.
thinking about guilt. feeling guilt. leading me to ponder the nature of guilt. questioning: what were the guilt impacts of my catholic upbringing, after all? but my upbringing had a large dose of criticism, skepticism and cynicism, too, so the whole guilt thing was public. apparent and discussed and laughed at. but not erased. then wondering about guilt in other cultures and religions. maybe there is a group of people out there that doesn't even have a word for guilt? and furthermore, what's the relationship between sinning and guilt? surely one can have guilt without having sinned. but hey, when a person is sentenced, they are found...guilty.
stop. recognizing my drift into intellectualization and away from the feelings that raised the whole issue. that's so easy to do, isn't it?
who absolves guilt?
do i absolve myself?
the one whom i feel guilted about?
has jesus already taken care of this for me?
thinking about guilt. feeling guilt. leading me to ponder the nature of guilt. questioning: what were the guilt impacts of my catholic upbringing, after all? but my upbringing had a large dose of criticism, skepticism and cynicism, too, so the whole guilt thing was public. apparent and discussed and laughed at. but not erased. then wondering about guilt in other cultures and religions. maybe there is a group of people out there that doesn't even have a word for guilt? and furthermore, what's the relationship between sinning and guilt? surely one can have guilt without having sinned. but hey, when a person is sentenced, they are found...guilty.
stop. recognizing my drift into intellectualization and away from the feelings that raised the whole issue. that's so easy to do, isn't it?
who absolves guilt?
do i absolve myself?
the one whom i feel guilted about?
has jesus already taken care of this for me?
1.19.2005
on the eve of
downstairs, reading the sacramento bee that has mysteriously appeared on our doormat the past 2 days. today somehow the 'style' section was put on the top of the pile. so, the front page news bound by rubberband was of what the bush women are wearing to inaugural events. i am a sucker for those slim fashion design drawings, and so i read on. half way through, i stopped and corrected myself. something seems just _off_ about fascinating over the clothing choices of the female first family at this juncture.
when i finally reached the real front page section (after reading the food and wine section, which naturally comes after style), i read about condoleeza rice's testimony for senate approval to become the secretary of state. the article focused on our own barbara boxer's grilling of ms. rice. much use of quotations, by rice, boxer, a supportive republican. and then,
"Frankly, your answer disturbs me," said Sen. John Kerry, D-Mass., making his first public appearance in the Senate since losing his bid last year to defeat Bush.
oh. hi john. it's so nice to see you. really, i'm glad to see you, to read your voice. the last time i saw you, on tv, you told me, and a huge roomful of people, "thank you. i love you." it's good to know you're still here. best wishes for a happy new year.
when i finally reached the real front page section (after reading the food and wine section, which naturally comes after style), i read about condoleeza rice's testimony for senate approval to become the secretary of state. the article focused on our own barbara boxer's grilling of ms. rice. much use of quotations, by rice, boxer, a supportive republican. and then,
"Frankly, your answer disturbs me," said Sen. John Kerry, D-Mass., making his first public appearance in the Senate since losing his bid last year to defeat Bush.
oh. hi john. it's so nice to see you. really, i'm glad to see you, to read your voice. the last time i saw you, on tv, you told me, and a huge roomful of people, "thank you. i love you." it's good to know you're still here. best wishes for a happy new year.
wednesday - the new tuesday?
just yesterday, i was lamenting the passing of tuesday as the bold frontrunner for friday last fall. i wondered at which day might emerge triumphant, secretly cheering for a dark horse, and not the old usual, the yankees of the seven day week - friday itself. and while it's too early to get out that ribboned wreath and the old big flash camera just yet, it's clear that wednesday is taking the lead. will she ride to victory?
i hope so. burdened with so many letters, and that unfortunate humpday stigma, one would expect she'd be too weighed down to rise to the weekly occasion. but nonetheless, my bets are on wednesday.
i hope so. burdened with so many letters, and that unfortunate humpday stigma, one would expect she'd be too weighed down to rise to the weekly occasion. but nonetheless, my bets are on wednesday.
1.18.2005
hands lightly on the brakes
in trying to make an appointment time with a professor this afternoon, i stumbled and tripped over numbers "3:45. no, no, i mean quarter to 2. after 1 sometime. 3:45. no." over the past days i've had to write a statement of purpose for a fellowship application. the directed thinking it necessitates about my life, past present and future, weaves like the blueprint plans of city streets i'm reading about, and on the sidewalks there are families with babies, lovers, loners. but the mental map is becoming flooded - strollers, old condoms, dog leashes, are all floating around in a high density urban pool. when i stick my toe into that fluid geography, i can't tell if the water's hot or cold right now. it's just soaking wet. riding my bike to and fro on campus today, nearly entirely not there, until i caught myself: i just randomly tilted my head down and noticed my hands on the handlebars, and realized i was outside, on a traffic circle, operating a moving vehicle.
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