heathervescent

The Spike Returns

I'm walking a couple down Amsterdam in the UL /unlicensed district. Except in this reality, it's the upper west side not Triton. I'm wearing a fur shug, no gold eyebrow. I have been chatting with my new companions  over guava and a glass of wine. I've found a great connection with these two. We continue our conversation on the city streets, until I turn to stand in front of a familiar red door. (Familiar from my childhood.) My demeanor changes. I am no longer chatty. The show begins, the door opens and we step inside.

The building reminds me of Victorian remodels from the Midwest. Plaster and lathe ceilings, peeling paint, a worn buffet, dusty floors. I am tempted to explore, but do not. I know more faces from last time. We are all much warmer.

There are performers, there is an audience, I am a guide. Through rooms, up stairs and down, for listening, observing, interacting. A journey, an experience, a commentary of man and nature deep in the mechanical beast of Manhattan. Finalie culminates, led down the aisle. I whisper a few words, unlatch the door and the show is over. 

I take a momentary pause, then return to my place. The show plays again.

Note: this post is about a real microtheatre performance in NYC. I take the name Microtheatre from Samuel Delaney's book, Trouble on Triton, wherein, his character, The Spike, writes, coregraphics and performs (with her troupe) microtheatre or theatrical experiences in the street for an audience of one.

And the Italian one

For Mom, here is my third favorite selection... Fellini Satyricon.

My other favorite film

is a collection of tales... with my favorite section starting at 7:30 of this analysis. 

 

"All these adventures begin simply. The listener thinks it'll soon be over, but one story creates another, and then another.

We are like blind men lost in the streets of a big city. The streets lead to a goal, but we often return the to same places to get where we want to be.

I see a few little streets here which, as it is now, are going nowhere. New combinations have to be arranged, then the whole will be clear, because one man cannot invent something that another cannot solve."

 

 

 

Life is but a dream...

The final scene from my favorite film

The 2011 Retrospective

What a watershed year! Pivotal. My 2011 Mindmap of goals was packed, and yet, I did not fail to deliver. After 2010 - the year I did too much, I wanted to relax things but still kick ass. My themes were: Relaxed Awesome, Weaving the Threads and Return to the Path with Heart. I most certainly "succeeded" at all three.

• Grad School: Hit the books big time with my Future of Transactions Research, on track to graduate at the end of the year until the dream job put grad school on hold... ;)
• The Conference Circuit: Spoke at SXSW, Future of Money, WFS Austin, Web 2.0, WFSummit Vancouver, Sibos Toronto, Compass, Mindshare & APF Virtual Gathering; Attended TedxCalTech, PayPal Developer's Conference, Internet Identity Workshop (A & B)
• Awards! Honorable Mention for the Value Exchange, Fly Me to the Moon nominated for Most Important Futures Work
• Scholarships! Kay Hamilton Future Studies, PEO ELF Award
• Produced two Films: Fly Me to the Moon and Flowers for Grandma (post-production)
• Became Bi-Coastal: Boy, did New York really get under my skin, but she had to bring out the big guns to do it. 
• Found my Dream Job: Who knew it existed? (Actually, I did.)
• The Usual Cacophony in March, June, August and December: Brides, Caveman, bi-coastal Santarchy and a surprising wolf pack in upper Manhattan. 
• Tons of great times/re-connections with friends from my early SF Intervista/Cacophony days in SF, NY and Portland.
• Despite family death and illnesses (cancer, knee surgery, brain tumor), I have the best relationships with my family I've ever had. Spent tons of time and holidays with my family, including my first fly fishing trip with Dad. Became an aunt for the second time.
• Travel! Hawaii, SF (3x), Montana, Colorado, Belgium (2x), Black Rock City, London, Toronto, Vancouver, New York City (5x), Austin, Houston, Salton Sea, Mountain View, Mammoth, Palos Verde, Portland and always to return to my City of Angels.
• Barcamp LA Returns! After a two year hiatus, I was part of the team that brought it back. 
• Writing: Completed two scripts, although I didn't do as much Sci-Fi story writing as I wanted...

My focus for 2012 was going to be "the Return of the H-bomb." (H-Bomb is one of my nicknames, mostly used in 2005-8, my kick ass years.) But after reviewing this year, I think the H-bomb is back in full force.

So 2012... is the year of living the future in present tense, with all my ass kicking warrior rockstar dreaming manifesting magic. Take my hand, there is plenty of space to dance here in the eye of the tornado... 

Nominated: Most Important Futures Award

I'm very excited to report my film, Fly Me to the Moon, which was created to show the results of my research at Sibos has been nominated for a Most Important Futures Work by the Association of Professional Futurists (disclaimer: I am a member of the APF). This is a huge honor and as you can see by the competition is very high with Nassim Tableb's Black Swan, Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers and Jane McGonigal's online game, Evoke. You can click through to see the other nominations. You can watch the video below, which was proudly shot and produced in West Hollywood, California, USA.

-Heather Schlegel, SWIFT Americas Innovation for Innotribe

(cross-posted at Innotribe's Blog)

2011 Retrospective, 2012 Sights Set

It's that time of year. When I revisit my yearly goals/objectives/mindsets and plan for the next year. This is a ritual I've done more or less publicly on the blog since 2004. This year, 2011, my themes were

• Relaxed Awesome
• Return to the Path with Heart
• Weaving the Threads

with a lot of specific, vague and inbetween goals. Part of this year was weaving the threads, bringing things in my life that seemed separate or unrelated together... like the winds joining in a tornado.

The other return focus this year was to the Tao and my warrior ways. To this end, I have returned to many conversations with the 2006 self (time travel conversations to a past hero self), this vibrant ruthless woman, nothing standing in her way. This was the woman who intentionally created her dream life and lived literally in the future. Somehow over the past few years, that women got sucked into the day to day present life, while professionally studying the future. While that's all fine and cool, I vowed to never live a normal life, a life that anyone could have. The waters of forgetfulness lulled me to sleep and my weapons were stolen, edges rusty and dulled. Searching this year, I have regained them. Sharpening them with increased subtle understanding in their use. 

I bring my seven daggers and a sword with me into 2012. Along with several other tools:

• Positive
• Adventure
• Travel
• Passion --> Love
• Work
• Transformation
• Courage

My sights are set on the fruit at the top; to adventure in the unknown while living/walking the path with heart.

2012 is the return of the H-Bomb.

Trust Strongly

I walk up to the doorman, say my name, am ushered in, despite the line. "I'm the cacophonist." The dark inside is not so different from that outside, except it's soft darkness, all encompassing, no neon, no filter light. Darkness that hides.

I am handed the 7 of clubs. Stripped of my outer layers, I enter the space, walking up the stairs, slowly, slowly. This is the transition. Leaving the reality of this New York world, of earth, of humanity, behind. Entering, an unknown world. I want to savor it. I want to experience the transition alone. Anticipating.

Familiar tinkling of ice in glasses. I spy a favorite Italian bitter on the shelf. Look for a dark corner to relax a moment. I'm thinking of my screen play, I'm thinking of Los Angeles, I'm thinking of my unfinished science fiction story. This room, reminds me so of a particular scene. Samuel Delaney. The Spike. Her micro-theatre productions. More drinking from the same collective unconscious.

I've been given advice and I take it. I enter a dream space. A (last) dinner party. I want to stick to the back, hiding even more from the mask I wear. The party breaks, guests go their ways, most being followed by a pack of the masked. How discombobulating?! 

Eventually I learn. The action is with the actors. Weaving the threads, twining, untwining. We follow them from space to space, from action to action. There is no character down time. The time and space is immersive character experience. White masks  surround them, as if ghosts from another reality. And we are. As members of the audience, we are not of the same material as these epic archetypal characters. Housed in this created space, actors as vessels, channeling the expression.

I am conflicted, to watch as voyeur, to follow. And I think, how New York - this voyeur experience. This anonymous watching. 

The evening passes, I return to the bar, my red drink. Collect my coat, continue reflecting as I step out into the New York night. Full moon muted behind clouds. Leaving one stage and re-joining another.

Please note: This post is about the NYC Interactive Performance Theatrical, Sleep No More.

Introducing the Innotribe Startup Challenge

I'm excited to announce the Innotribe Startup Challenge. For the past month or so, I have been working behind the scenes on this Global Event Series that connects innovative financial startups with the big guys in the industry.

Back at Sibos, I had a revelation:

• Incumbents and Start-ups: They need to work together.
• The current system doesn't deserve to be destroyed.
  
• Embrace and extend.
  

I had a vision of connecting daring, risk taking, disruptive startups (and divisions inside larger companies that act like startups) with traditional big companies and incumbents in the industry. Startups are often looking to disrupt the existing paradigm (well at least those from my Silicon Valley background) and surprisingly enough, from what I've learned in the Banking industry, banks want innovation. They are searching for it. Yearning for it. Everyone knows the industry is changing, but how exactly? That's up to everyone in the industry.

The Startup Challenge is a way to connect innovative financial product/service developers with the people in big companies who want to support it, encourage it, potentially invest in it. Startups are invited to apply, with semi-finalists selected to pitch at the NYC Feb 8, 2012 event. You can read more about the details of the challenge.

The Startup Challenge is the first event I am producing with Innotribe, and I'm bringing my usual heathervescent energy, style, fun with substance and value. It's also my first New York event, and I'm determined to bridge my California culture with New York's. (Hence my deep dive into New York.) 

What can you expect on Feb 8? 15 pitches by interesting companies to a room full of "the right people." Conversations and connections with decision makers who can be your startups lucky break. A positive wildcard that may be the defining moment (in retrospect) for your company to thrive, while you create (or in some cases) re-create our financial paradigm.

I hope you will spread the word about the Startup Challenge.

An Open Door

It is done. Past trips have scratched the surface, querying conversations found the edges; friends, family and ex-pat Californians have given hints on the location of the lock, key, handle. The city herself shares hints of Los Angeles - those perhaps only an Angelino could recognize. With patience, sweetness and ruthless abandon, I have cracked New York City. The door is open. I walk her city streets as tourist no longer. As traveler, adventurer, explorer, artist, creator.

--

Subway errands. My favorite fluevogs lost a heel the first day I arrived, but I didn't notice until yesterday morning. Instead of wearing them, I put them in a bag (along with my dry cleaning) as I walked out the door in the morning. Before the subway, I dropped of my dry cleaning (which will be delivered to my apartment!), after work, I subwayed to SoHo/Little Italy to fix my fluevogs. Picked up the heels from Fluevog, then hoofed it to the cobbler before he closed. Later, walking up 6th Avenue, passing a wine store, to another subway stop, catching a train home. The intertwined subway line webs. No backtracking necessary. 

 

New York Reflections

I'm watching her. From across the water. Late night. Finding myself alone. A rare moment of solitude amidst lapping waves. My new walking shoes jump from rock to rock. My black shadow moving closer to the water. Gazing up, I see towers of stone. Stone carved and stacked by men. I look at the metal gratings, listen to the transit waves. Hear the light clipped lapping of water waves. I see the lights across the water. A glittering skyline.

I breathe in the cool air. I'm enjoying this moment. I look to the sky, finding the moon, sliver growing larger over the past few days. And I'm surprised. Because I see stars. Old friend Orion is stretched across the sky. The coldness of the sky reminds me of the desert and for a moment I can imagine LoriLisaMojave and her cold star speckled sky. But the metaphor can't hold more than a minute. 

I return my gaze to the underside of Manhattan Bridge. Stone rising into metal grates. I listen to the subway train light it's way into the city. I'm beginning to understand. I have continued my questions of this city. I've almost cracked it.

--

Chelsea walking. Brownstones, parked cars, an unattended pickup full of split wood. With a note to "try some of the best wood in the city! Sure, take a piece and then call me to get more." Something I would not have expected here. I'm walking down this street when the thought unfolds in my mind. That I could live here. The revelation comes as a complete surprise to me. Or rather, I see _how_ I would live her. In the ordinary. Everyday. Living. A different person. New York is no longer extraordinary, the familiarization has begun. 

--

East Village Evening. Dinner with amazing women, the conversation turn to a subject I wrote a book about among many others. I am reminded of many things. Possible pathways open before my eyes. Life being lived. The tourist view has shattered. I've cracked it. But I don't necessarily like everything I see. My only question remains, which of these paths will I walk?

Continued Awe

Six years ago, I perched upon the edge of the LA Times Building for this (cover) photo.

I was in love with Los Angeles. (I still am.)

I am in awe at the world. At the wind in the air. The palm tree lined streets. The feeling of my clutch stick in my leather gloves. The french silk sky with ribbons of pink carmel. (read more)

Six years later, I know her curves well, love her no less. Driving down Olympic, the top down (in my second Saab convertible) playing a favorite mashup, I am struck with strong emotion. With the conversations we have as I shift up and down the gears, switching lanes. Wordless expressions. Rubber on grooved concrete. My every glance seems to end at the Hollywood sign, up in those hills me and Mr Pup explore. I think about that Red Hot Chili Pepper's song...

Sometimes I feel
Like I don't have a partner
Sometimes I feel
Like my only friend
Is the city I live in
The city of Angels
Lonely as I am
Together we cry

I drive on her streets
'Cause she's my companion
I walk through her hills
'Cause she knows who I am
She sees my good deeds and
She kisses me windy and
I never worry
Now that is a lie

It's as if my city is the only thing I can love with my full expression. Of course, she can not deny me. Or maybe it's a homecoming, return to the place of my birth after so many years of exodus. Or maybe it's because here in this city, where the wind blows in hot and cold from the Mojave desert showing the sparkle of the San Gabriels, we live on the edge. We create the edge. It's here we can pluck the possibilities from the unknown, from the edge of nothing, and yet maintain a connection to manifest, create, build these things plucked. Audacious possibilities from an audacious unknown. Movie magic, inspired by and inspiring scientific efforts.

Los Angeles, I love you like no other place or person. An abstract affection for a place, an idea, a concept, the possibilities here and the reality of making it real. You are me and I am you, inspired co-creators of this mega-city on the western edge of North America. 

Speaking in 2012

As 2011 winds down, I'm actively planning my 2012 year. As in this year, I plan to speak and lead the discussion on the Future of Transactions and the changing thing we call Money. I have a few confirmed speaking gigs.

• The New Age of Money or How I learned to stop worrying and love the economic collapse , a Future 15 session at SXSW Interactive, Austin, March 2012. In 12 minutes I will share positive visions of the unfolding new age of money and how this will make the humanity more effective and have more fulfilling lives.
• Tomorrow's Transactions, Digital Money Forum, London, March 2012
• The Future of Shopping with Emily Empel at the World Future Society, Toronto, July 2012. Emily and I are joining forces blending our research on the Future of Shopping and  Future of Transactions to lead an interactive session where we'll share the results of our academic research through hands-on inter-activities.

If you're interested in hearing about my research, invite me to speak at your conference or private events. Just contact me. 

Writers Meet

It's early dark, the sun set hours ago. I'm driving east to meet a friend, the first woman I met in Los Angeles. Hard to believe that was so many years ago. I remember staying in her house and the mutual inspiration, the years of adventures we later had in the Future (the name we affectionately called the house we bought together).

We had been trying to meet up for several months, but our travel schedules were opposite. Finally, for one day between trips, we found ourselves in our same city. We met at a natural cuisine restaurant on Hillhurst. I don't make it much outside my West Hollywood borders these days and I forgot how much I love this street with it's restaurants (many new ones!) and boutique shops. I've got to get over there more often.

So here I was, back with my Future pardner and we're catching up and talking about our writing projects. I tell her about my films, she about her hard-boiled screenplay and book. We're talking about the writer's craft, and I ask her, if her characters have taken on a life of their own. Oh yes she replies, telling me her characters are very different from the way she initially envisioned them. Surprising to her and also challenging. 

I experienced this with my recent screenplay stories. The characters I envisioned at the onset, change as I bring them into this reality through these letters, words. As Steven Pressfield would say, it's the muse talking through my fingers. These stories are not mine, but use me to express themselves, to manifest - often out of the collective unconsciousness.

The best advice given to her, "Write ferociously."

Caressing a City

It's freaking cold, probably only 50 degrees or so, but for someone who doesn't own a winter coat, that's cold enough. I'm bundled up, wearing layers, sweaters, gloves, hat, scarf. I'm walking around the East Village. I'm taking it in. Running a finger along the edge of this city. 

Over drinks, in passing conversations I question. I'm gathering research, experiences, impressions. Tapping out the studs while admiring the wallpaper. Some tell me I'll never crack the essence of NYC. The vibe, the experience. But I'm not shooting to understand all in 7 days; just identify the pathways to unfolding, walk a bit down them, caressing with my presence, awareness, observations. Identify the anchor points.

I learn, see, understand as I probe. Then it's enough and I go back into the city. Walking her streets, dark, gritty, dirty streets. Finding my way (easily) through mazes and tunnels. Trains. Watching people. As individuals. As mass. I'm them too. The wind blows (cold), chill with Autumn. I lift my head, open my nostrils and deeply inhale. Taking the cold scent into my lungs. The city gives me what I am looking for, embracing me back.

Showing the Throat

I learn a lot about other people when I show my vulnerabilities.

From my perspective, I don't have a lot to lose being vulnerable. Or rather, I have come to terms with the (possible imagined) downsides. On the positive, we've forged an anonymous connection; while the best scenario is we forge a real connection. But if there's no connection, it's totally fine, I've gathered information.

Someone a long time ago, said it was my vulnerabilities that made him love me. I was in a very vulnerable part of my life, reconfiguring it dramatically (trading my previous traditional choices for a life of possibilities, walks into the unknown and unknowable). It was fucking scary. I didn't like being vulnerable. Showing my flaws, imperfections. I learned you have to be open to let the impossible/unknown flow into life. To trust. Sure, I've been betrayed, stabbed in the heart. But in the end, you have to get over the pain, the amargosa. (Se eu nao tenho meu amor, eu tenho minha dor.) Cabiria knows, life goes on.

Life is not a safe place.

I think we forget that, because we have used technology to make it safer. Technology and Knowledge and Culture insulate, make us forget this wild, magical, world full of beauty, possibility, pain and raw experience. To experience that, I offer my throat.  

Urban Camping Exploration

With begrudging excitement I zipped through traffic on the 405. Shifting up and down the gears as I defragged the freeway, playing a game I call threading the needle. A final zip into the parking garage before the parking break and clip clop of fluevogs on pavement. I left my race driver persona along with my keys with the attendant. 

I'm embarking on an adventure I have been calling Urban Camping. 

Let me explain. While staying with some friends in San Francisco I was looking for some easy exercise. Rosie suggested I do some urban hiking, which was basically going on a hike in the city. My destination was Mt Davidson - the highest point in San Francisco - and I did some serious hill climbing to get up there. I decided to take the concept farther with my next New York trip.

New York is a weird place for an Angelino like me. I've traveled through the City often enough. I've had more than one SO hailing from the place. But I always thought of myself as from the wild west, riding my iron horse, big sky mountain range Mojave vistas. I turned my nose up to the Big City. It could offer me nothing my Queen of Angels couldn't provide in bounty. Besides, I wasn't convinced New York was a modern city. It was an old piece of machinery, well greased, but built and representing an old paradigm. 

Ok, so I had some baggage. 

And when I find baggage, I proceed to unpack it, assimilate it and/or throw it out. What better time to challenge my assumptions?

In my mind, I'm packing for the desert. I've got my camping gear, my hiking gear, warm weather clothes, serious footwear, my morning coffee ritual needing only boiling water, which for urban camping is an electric teakettle. My mind is open, I'm leaving judgements behind, the space for possibilities exists. Unknown possibilities. Wildcards in my mind.

Midnight arrival. I immediately feel the press of humanity. Discombobulated. Setting up camp at 1am is never much fun, especially if you haven't been to the campsite before. Fitful night of sleep. No coyote calls. No stars at night, but the lights are bright and brilliant far into the sky. Morning coffee calms, complete with my Vietnamese Cinnamon. I meditate on clothing selections for the upcoming hike: Times Square via Subway from Brooklyn.

I hesitate for a moment, take a breath, charge my metro card, then jump. There will be only a short time of new, fumbling, discovering. Eventually we will know each other. I ask the Queen of Angels to forgive my absence. I have never loved a city like I love her. But we haven't seen much of each other recently. New York calls, as does London, Brussels, San Francisco. Cities of past adventures, returning to the spotlight. What can I do but acquiesce? Explore possibilities. Cultivate curiousity.

I ride the subway. I walk. I take elevators. Everywhere people. I look at the view. I study maps. I start to understand the land, coated with humanity, our efforts. I watch balloons rise in the towers of air, between towers of steel and glass. I start to recognize. To familiarize. Things stop being new. I'm starting to unpeel the layers. To feel the pulse. To adapt. I hear the proto-words whispered, the proto-language of the city. I respond with affection, exploration, calm presence. We've got time to know each other. To enjoy the unfolding.

 

 

Taoist Futures

I'm having an on-fire day today. Things are converging. The universe is sending me love letter from all sides and I'm sending my own share out too. I feel good. Stupidly happy. I enjoy the chemicals flowing positively through my body. Feeling these emotions. Knowing, that with the flow, there is the ebb.

Washing up after my morning coffee, I remember previous days. (Not necessarily the immediate preceding days.) The days of funk. Of feeling out of the groove. Not getting the love from the universe. Not making progress.  As I rinse my wine glasses, I remember that many great days, follow funk days. Months of activity, follow years of quietude. Feast follows famine. 

On these up days, I try to remember that this what I have, will change. A partner of years ago, the old prospector, always said, "you want to be approaching perfection, but never attaining it." I've never forgotten this. Good luck, bad luck, who knows. The tao knows no judgement. And I strive (and sometimes don't strive) to be one with /a vessel of the tao.

So my mind thusly primed, the dishes clean, I started thinking about that which I love thinking about these days: the changing state of our economy, money, currency, transactions. And right now, I think we're all in agreement that things are BORKED! But, it's not like this is the first time things have been borked, or the first crisis - and were still alive, here, transacting. (B. Lietear mentioned an amazing number of crisis's tracked since the 1600s in his talk on Monday at Compass Summit.) Then the tao flowed into my mind.

The only thing TO happen is to adjust the direction of the flow (I'm not talking stock and flow diagramming flows here). Things _are_ borked. So when things get to be completely borked, the only next step is away from complete and utter borkdom. (Ok, I realize this whole bork thing is getting out of hand, but stick with me.)

I'll translate. The only place the current financial economic global system has to go - is to get better. I realize there are still some doom and gloomers that will say it can get much worse, but I'm not talking rationally here. I'm talking taoistically. And with that, I hereby coin the phrase, "Taoistic Futures."

;)

 

A Contrarian's View of Identity: Only Real Names

When I was at IIW earlier this week, I held a session called, "A Contrarian View of Identity: Envision a World with Only Real Names."

The ground rules of this session were:

• There is no discussion. We are starting with the assumption that real names are the only reality.
• No dystopian or negative perspectives (relieved this for last 5 minutes of info gathering)

I then asked those in the room to close their eyes. Take a deep breath. Envision all of the identities that you use online and out in the world. See them moving to the middle and coming together, becoming one identity, and that name is your real legal name. If there is any negativity coming up with this, just put it aside for the moment. Sit with this vision of your identity as your real legal name. Take another deep breath. Pause. Now open your eyes. 

Here's what we came up with. 

• Make it easier to decide what I won’t do online, simplify decisions
• Stop doing things on line. 
• I changed my name to one I like. 
• Transparency:  More empathy because I see you 
• Easier to find connections between people and create opportunities, because you see all capabilities. E.g. not only limited to see me as someone who just does this...
• People would be nicer to each other if tied to a single ID. 
• Alleviates Simplifies – don’t have to manage multiple personas don’t have to know the context of relationships. 
• Better connected to the real you – See multifaceted people. 
• Less Victimization, but sociopaths will always be sociopaths. There could be the chance that some people could really hurt and manipulate people. 
• Sociopaths will not stop/be deterred,  people will find easier victims. 
• ** More protections for our privacy because we are more vulnerable.  It’s an everyone problem so maybe governments act more.
• If you can tell who I a:
•      easier to vote with the internet
•      eliminate Fake Public Policy Groups
•       literally find people easier (physically) 
• You own you -> others can’t impersonate you, lie about you as easily, harder to be impersonated, defrauded, protected. 
• Better connected to your history.  (could be a pro or con)
• Short Term vs. Long term effects (e.g less watching porn but ok to watch porn no stigma) 
• There would be fewer IIW Working Groups because Less work to do, save work. 
• Reaching your full potential w/o being able to explore ID. I would not have reached my human potential if I had not been able to explore with various IDs, even though I may not have/be/use them anymore.
• Highly repressive governments would have a much easier time.

After 15 minutes of information gathering, I released the "No dystopian or negative perspectives" rule and all comments were welcome.

After the session, one person remarked that by requiring us to start with positive perspectives, we came up with some really interesting and creative responses. (That was my goal. ;) ).

I highly enjoyed taking on the contrarian view of Identity. It was refreshing to put my judgements and assumptions aside and try on a new, usually discarded view. Everyone who participated found the session highly interesting and at least one person mentioned they were going to try this technique with other topics. I found it a great way to see around my blind spots.

Updated: Makeup of the Future

With all the talk of privacy going away, cameras and surveillance everywhere, and people actively fighting, I see a different way. Evolve with the technology.

So what, there are cameras tracking you, and face recognition software - where's the visually scattering make-up? I can envision a future where makeup (and clothing and accessories, shy not) have additional benefits. Not only can you have healthy glowing skin or waterproof eyeliners, but it provides a privacy fog around you. Perhaps it scatters or shifts the way your face looks (so it's not identified as a face). For example eye makeup that renders your eyes invisible to the algo processing the video feed. 

Alternately, I can see using these makeups or clothes to show information, patterns or art. Could someone create a visual virus that infected algos that were exposed to it.

It's a mashup of They Live, Gully Foyle's face in the Stars My Destination, Ghost in the Shell, tattooing, beauty and tiger stripes.

 

Update: After I tweeted this post, Scott McWilliams (@macengr) replied to me on Twitter with the genius Dazzle Camouflage. 

@heathervescent ala the Dazzle camouflage of World War One?en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dazzle_ca…

Aikido Flow

I was talking with an old Aikido friend when he stopped me in the middle of the conversation and said, "I want to Ikkyo you." Now, it's been at least a decade since I regularly practiced on the mat, so I forgot what Ikkyo was, a pretty gnarly joint wrist lock. Drew and I have both practiced this move on each other (decades ago). I was confused, but then he explained what this meant. 

Aikido is about moving energy around. In the simplest terms, an aikidoist is someone who takes the energy being directed at him/her (generally in the form of an attack) and fluidly moves it to a place of safety. The aikidoist stays safe and also keeps his/her attacker safe. It's a strange form of intimacy - accepting in any force, not fighting it directly and re-directing it to a safe expression. 

Many of the movements have varying degrees of "bone crackingness" meaning that a conscientious aikidota will only put the least amount of force needed to appropriately redirect the energy and maintain safety. Not only are you physically close to your attacker/uke/practitioner, but when you're real about practicing, there is a non-physical, intimate, energetic interaction. It's the Ki.

Uke must trust that when they take on the role of the attacker, they will be safe in their energetic expression. The aikidoist must keep integrity when being attacked. I remember my favorite practice: Shio-nage. My attackers would come at me, I'd swoop down, redirect their energy, grab there body and place it on my chest, like a mother cradling a baby, as I swooped and spun them around, releasing them with their own energy as a throw.

Discussing these nuances, I realized I had internalized Aikido long ago. While I have not stepped on the mat in I don't know how long, I practice aikido every day. The world is my dojo.

On Change and Adaptation

The landscape in which we live, to which we are adapted, will also change; and that any one adaptation leaves the truths of the others outside its domain. - Rob Tow on Neo-enlightenment

 

Reminders from the world

I found this written on the whiteboard of a local (Albany, CA) high school circa 2003 or 2004.

How to live a Happy Stress free Life

1. Be impeccable with your word   
   Before you speak: Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary?
2. Avoid being judgmental   
   Ask questions, express what you really want
3. Give the benefit of the doubt   
   We are all doing the best we can at our level of awareness.
4. Always do your best   
   In doing so, you avoid self judgment, self abuse and regret

 

The Unknown: Fireflies and the Rain

(another one, from another time)

I was driving the N. Virginia back roads. I'm stalking the battlefield I recently visited. A technique I've found myself doing is going back to places twice, but never from the same route or necessarily the exact same place.

It's misty. Been raining. There is the misty fog on the road. The pavement is black. Slick. Sleek. Inviting. The lights from my car do not penetrate very far into the darkness beyond the mist. I have the windows down. The mist and rain is flying into the car and my hair is flying around. I can feel the power in the air. The wind. The moisture. I drink it in.

I'm backtracking and I don't know it yet. I follow roads and turn onto new ones at the slightest flicker of direction. I find myself pulling into a parking area. It's very dark. The sky is that cloudy grey. The trees are black against the grey. I get out of the car. I hear the rain falling from the trees, yet it is not falling from the sky. The field is open and I hear creaking noises (almost like branches rubbing together but deeper) coming from it. I peer into it. I see flickers of light. I realize they are fireflies. 
The strange creaking, the mist, the black outline of the trees, the flickers of lights. I walk out into the field to be surrounded by it.

 

On Death

"Death is very likely the best invention of life," he said in the speech. "All pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure, these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important." - Steve Jobs, RIP

Kissing the Unknown

I could not resist the call of the forest surrounding my hotel. Pulling myself away from a the crack called twitter, I pulled on my sneakers, trench coat and went out into the European dusk.

The air was thick with darkness, the last bit of light filtering through the high canopy. I thought for 1 second, that it might be crazy to go for a walk in an unknown forest in the middle of nowhere. And I didn't even have a flashlight or pocket knife on me. But never, mind, I've done this before. 

My eyes adjusted to the lower light. The gravel path turned to forest bark. The moist silence descended on my soul. The light became shadows as I walk deeper in the forest. The silence became thicker. Surrounding me. I surrendered to the present. 

I stopped in a crossroads. Standing and listening. A faint rustle. Leaves falling. Then the wind. The wind blowing in the trees. The wind blowing through the forest. Hearing first the wind. Then feeling it across my skin. Breathing it in. Remembering how I love the wind. A bench appeared and I rested. Soaking in the silence and wind and rustling leaves. Drinking it in. 

Then off in the distance, dark trench coat, a mirror image of myself, picking her way along the path. I stand, ready to fight, but it's not time. We will just have a conversation. She will remind me. When the time comes, I will gratefully release to her all that I am, and start a new journey. I ask her to remind me of this often, lest I grow complacent and fail to express any pedaco of potential, fail to create the most unbelievable life I could ever (and not) imagine. 

I remember my previous dances. The sacrifices I made. My stumbles and missteps on the path with heart. I recently began wearing a reminder of my greatest sacrifice. It's potent. And doing it's job. 

Through the darkest part, I heard an Owl. Then the rustling of some creature. I looked into the woods, could see nothing in the darkness. I remembered my afternoon hikes in high school - bush whacking along Indian paths, finding dilapidated ruins. I wondered if any predatory animals lived in this forest. I expected not - or if so, well fed. The fields of this area are lush. The owl continued. I thought that Red Riding Hood must have been told in forests like these. I could believe the fear of the wolf pack. But I expect to come face to face with Coyote or a Bobcat in Griffith Park. Although I had been visited by a Coyote of a different sort. 

Off in the distance I saw light streaming through the trees. I thought about the warmness that one would feel, if one had really been traveling by foot in a forest. It turned out to be a truck, packing some things up. Blinding me as I returned to civilization. A rebirth? A re-member. Returning, holding the knowledge, the feeling, to keep the present, from the past to savor, remember in the ever-present. 

An encounter with Death, circa 2002

(Note: this was written almost a decade ago, before this blog existed)

Last night the Virginia back roads coaxed me away from my glowing liquid display and conditioned air into the moist pleasure of evening. I found myself on two lane roads. I didn't know where I was, how I got there, or how to get home. I followed the nudges of infinity. To turn here or there. I found myself at the end of a dead end road. The tarmac was crumbling into the overgrowth. There were two dirt tracks that went on behind a vehicle barrier. I parked the car. I was wearing my work clothes - business casual pants and shoes. The forest called to me. I was drawn to a path near the vehicle barrier. 

I got out of the car. As I walked towards the path, I looked down and saw a spinal column set of vertibraes. I stopped. I was surprised, shocked, a slight wave of fear went through my body. I looked at the vertibraes. They were beautiful, bone white, they fit together perfectly. My eyes followed the line and I saw the skull still attached. I realized that it had been a deer. 

As I looked at the spinal column, I thought about how crazy it is what I am doing. That it is crazy for a single woman, all alone, unfamiliar with the area to go randomly driving, stop someplace where she doesn't know she is, and walk into the forest. My brain is churning with how crazy it is. I know it sounds that way, but that doesn't stop me. The spinal column is a reminder of my death. That one day I will die. Perhaps it will be this night in this forest. And if that is the case, then I must go to it with courage, curiosity but no fear. 

For a moment, my brain creates a view of the world where I am getting back into the car and driving away, and then I realize that I am walking into the forest. The air is calm, moist. It is just after sunset. The light filters through the trees. There are bugs humming in the air. There are fireflys flickers orbs of light here and there. It is magical and I feel the power. The light is that of my dreams, I call it the darklight. 

At the end of the path I find a reservoir. The water is calm. There are a pair of fishermen out in a boat. I can hear their voices across the water. I sit by the edge on some rocks and become enveloped in the silence. In the dream of this place.

 

A Travel Poem

I'm translating the hours from three different zone.  An exercise in time travel, as I move backwards and forward in time. In my mind, I hold the vision of my home city. Is she wearing the Vanilla Sky or Neon Sparkles? I do not miss her. I am her beyond her boundaries.

I walk streets. I navigate people. I pretend to be a tourist. I pretend to be local. I meet with friends, old and new, eating way too many steaks and mushrooms and glasses of wine. I'm trying to understand. Understand this entity that is called a city. People. Humanity. We create I. I creates WE.

I'm from the frontier. Space. Wide fields. Open Mojave landscapes, naked mountains. I have been the single human within a 30 square mile radius. This city rising into the sky is strange to me. I set my strangeness aside. I decide to be comfortable. To drink deeply. To breath it in. I give my rational mind a vacation. The freedom to stop thinking about how to solve, do or understand logically - to feel. To feel with my body.

I'm enjoying the cool. A thunderstorm rolls across Manhattan, lightning strikes, rain falling on the rivers. Stray drops as I walk the streets. Later, to my delight, getting caught in a torrential downpour. The cold water soaks my non-raincoat. My leather fluevogs turn a darker shade of grey. A chill goes down my spine. There's nothing to do but enjoy. Enjoy - I do. After the thunder, the tension released, is always the sun; blazing bright on an empty Sunday motorway. The morning comes, the perspective is expanded. I move into the day in a different city, bringing with me, my memories, connections across the globe.

The Answer to Big Questions

1. Why does the universe exist?

2. Why do I exist?

3. Why does _(fill in the blank/anything)_ exist?

These are big questions (I wanted to know the answer to), with a simple answer. I meditated on these questions over a decade ago. Each night as I slept I swam the sap in the world tree. (I know it's a strange metaphor - but that's exactly what it was - a droplet circulating from specific leaves to other places.)

After five nights, I knew the answer.

I have never forgotten that answer. I never questioned it's "correctness." Occasionally, I share it. But it's not an answer to be given lightly. No one has argued with the answer. When I learned of Spiral Dynamics, it helped me understand the subtle truth of it. 

When I think of it, I become more tolerant, open, curious. Fear disappears. I want to understand, not judge.

Call for [Systems Thinking] Collaborators

I'm looking for collaborators to help me flesh out the rest of this systems diagram that shows the flow of tangible/dollar transactions to non-tangible transactions. Basically it's an attempt at showing how non-financial transactions come out of financial transactions. Contact me if you have experience with systems diagramming/thinking and are into this space. (Yeah, I know it needs a lot of work!)

Respect for Modern Farming

This summer I've been exercising my gardening muscles after I got a small space in the new West Hollywood community garden. I had been doing active container gardening for several years, trying out some vertical gardening ideas - with varied success. Flowers, ornamental and herbs did well, but my attempts at growing food never thrived or attracted pests. So when my number (literally) came up in the new garden lottery, I accepted it with excitement.

It took a lot of work to prepare the soil. (The garden area used to be an old lot so the soil was not that great.) Then I planted the seeds, watered them diligently, daily. I watched them sprout, tender and fragile, until they grew stronger, maturing. Often after I finished watering the garden, I'd stop by the grocery store and pick up things for dinner.  The irony was not lost on me. After months of diligent tending, I was finally able to harvest some of the fruits of my labor. 

Like my container garden attempts, some items thrived in the SoCal summer better than others. This coupled with a harvest screw-up made some items inedible. After the months of nurturing this was a tragedy. Still, I had more than enough chard, peppers, tomatoes, and basil (had I not let it go to seed). The sunflowers grew tall with their happy yellow faces. 

Of course we ate what we grew - but there's no way we could have lived on what the garden produced. Yet, at the same time, we had more than enough of some things. This gave me new respect for high yield seeds and professional farmers. Those farms that focus on growing amazing, lush foods for us to eat. (I am probably more spoiled than most, living in Los Angeles with the fertile San Joaquin Valley a few hours away.)

I thought, who are these people that want to go back to the old way - of tough small harvests. Science and technology has made life easier - life more productive (both for plants, animals and humans). Why throw these discoveries away or worse, ignore them. They give us the ability to focus on finer grain issues in the world. 

Possible Future of Facebook

Here's the math equation: 

Facebook timeline + Dan Simmons Flashback + Stephenson's Diamond Age (Or A Young Girl's Primer) + AI = Possible future for us Gen Xers when we are old and in old age homes aka "TV" for the old people. 

Here's the scene: you're old (but you don't have to be), you want to reminiscence, with/about your friends. Well, lucky you - you lived your life on Facebook (or Twitter or Google or your blog, etc.) and there is a ton of information about you to not only create your life timeline, but an avatar AI representation of you. (I've written about this in my scenario entitled, Trantor Mentors. Extra credit to anyone who gets the name inspiration.) So you can decide to jack in and re-experience certain times - or maybe just read your life like it was a book. (I admit I do that with my own blog sometimes. I am my primary reader, Oscar Wilde inspiration.) And there are different levels of media engagement. Like I mentioned, there's the book/reading, there's the watching, there's immersive VR (probably 3D).

 Facebook might wanna consider teaming up with Singularity University right about now.

Protopian Flipsided View: one can use these group memories for various esoteric practices that increase self-awareness, understanding and tolerance.

Caressing with Eyes

I open the shades just in time for the rockies. I'm above the earth again. My flight trajectory is taking me across my favorite landscapes: the Colorado Rockies, Southern Utah and the California Deserts. I've had the good fortune of watching this landscape from the air a lot recently. 

I'm glued to the window, a glass of sparkling water at my elbow, the soundtrack Bjork's possibly maybe/hyperballad covering up the droning engines. I feast my eyes, recognizing Pike's Peak to the southeast, Aspen's shaved ski slopes on the mountain just below me. I remember a fast drive on Interstate 70 below me - and a favorite roadtrip moment.

We pass over Moab - I see scratched red rocks. I remember two conversations in this natural land. Who calls into a business conference call from Arches National Park? (One guess.) As I view this landscape from above, I remember the view from below. I first discovered it during my Great American Roadtrip. My mindblowing drive along the Colorado River, hitting my high speed at 7am on a desolate Utah road, winding up and around Capitol Reef, Dixie National and Escalante/Grand Staircase. 

I see the same land from a different perspective and it is just as beautiful - mindblowing. In rock I see the roil of boiling water. I imagine a movable landscape, fluid rock, spewing Volcanoes. I imagine the crust under a shallow sea. 

These landscapes, formed in geological time remind me of the long term. Remind me of the long line of the past, the trajectory of the future, and the tiny moment of the present. It doesn't make me feel small though. It vitalizes me. It makes me love this time on earth - and feasting upon the gorgeousness of the land. 

Your's Truely on the Grandstand in Death Valley's Racetrack.

20 Euro Dare

On the outside, it's a boring looking box - building material enclosing a space, the interior, ripe for possibilities. I ride up the escalator, hear music playing, see lights flashing, the space is filled with stages, activities, people. 

I weave through the crowds, looking for familiar faces, scoping out the layout, observing the scene, finding new friends. I'm reminded of a Malibu house party years prior. I retreated from those crowds. I found myself a balcony and watched the scene.  Detached. It's what I want to do here, now. I tell myself my inner introvert was left back in the states, in my LA office. Besides, I don't live the same life twice. I decide to fully engage in the scene. 

Movie scenes play in the back of my mind, memories of playa parties, Silicon Valley parties. We're all humans, despite the industry. I look for the meta-view. "Pull back camera," as Jodorosky says. I gather data. Observe. Wait. On the dancefloor, I pretend it's Bootie. The mashups are in my mind, while my body moves. I spill the wine.

The next morning, as I blear through customs and security finally arrive to the coffee shop. I dig in my wallet for the bill I won. I hand it to the cashier who hands it back to me. Not Canadian. I laugh. It's Euros. A 20 Euro bet, I would have done for the thrill. An exchange to display the courage to take a risk beyond the usual. A transaction.

I've converted/compressed the value of something that can not be exchanged on the stock market (in it's original form) into the binary exchange. Did I just exchange social capital/wuffie into Euros? I don't know.

 

 

Creating Something from "Nothing"

One of the negative points that is sometimes mentioned with virtual/alt/complimentary currencies is that they are/were created out of nothing. And the reason the economic systems works is because of scarcity. 

I'm calling a big fat bullshit.

Observe where all the money is going and for what? To make MORE MONEY! Out of "nothing." We're in this problem because we are using a scarce system for abundant methods. You get money, you use it to make more money. Where does that money come from? Debt? The Fed's quantitative easing?

The problem here - is the current system is not set up for the abundance paradigm. (Please bear with my hippy language.) Interesting isn't it, that this is the paradigm people want - and are using in some cases. No wonder the current system is freaking out. It's not designed for the abundance paradigm. 

So quit fighting the system. Create the place where anyone can create "something" out of "nothing."

It's what we as humans do. It's not a bad thing. It's what we humans are here for. It's a ratification of the raw materials of the universe.

I regularity makes things real based on electrical signals in the cellular matter just inside my skull. You could call that something from nothing.

Financial System Introspections

A couple thoughts on Money and Transactions have been fluttering in my mind. Until tonight, I've been out experiencing my first Sibos, International Banking convention. It's been a wild mix of activities, observations and surprises.

Incumbents and Start-ups: They need to work together. I'm concerned with the disruption coming from start-up land because I know how start-ups are run. I'm a start-up girl. I love the risk, the challenge of building a new idea, making it real, taking it to market, to the people. Building something, a beta, launching, rapid product development. I know how long it takes for good QA cycles (even with Agile development) - and when we're talking about about a living infrastructure the world depends on - this is not something I want left up to my wonderful, disruptive start-up entrepreneurs. There are serious risks, liability. The necessary requirements for up time and consistency would kill a start-up.

We watch consumers get pissed on social media with any little thing not perfect? Wait till their finances get as messed up as their airline travel. Not a pretty sight. Start-ups and the Big Financial Incumbents need to work together. To do what they do best, so they can keep doing what they do best. To help each other innovate, create/build standards and infrastruture and provide solid, risk reliant financial products and services. There is a place for both the start-up and the incumbent in our new world.

The current system doesn't deserve to be destroyed. Just because it's had some major problems recently, doesn't mean it should be killed. I DO NOT Believe the existing money system is going away. We are BUILDING upon the existing system. The existing system is a FOUNDATION upon which more value is being created. These emerging things could not emerge without prior existence of our current system. Just as our current system evolved out of the previous one.

This is not a case where the phoenix should be immolated only to rise again. Let's create a new metaphor - joining the strength of the past, building upon this strength and pushing, expanding, extending it out into the unknown, the impossible - and bring our hands back full of start-up ideas for an expanding ecosystem. This is pragmatic futures work.

Embrace and extend. I use the not so loved metaphor to explain my thoughts on what I prefer to see happen with the current system/situation. Incumbents embrace these new systems/concepts/ideas and extend the infrastructure into these new area. (There's a place for start-ups too.)

Market Externalities. Triple Bottom Line. Encoding a new language. Creating the interface to plug currently understood non-financial values/transactions into the market system. Giving/Letting the market system do what it does best. Loosen the bonds holding back the flow of currency.

There is no black and white. All bets are off. We are traversing new ground (while we create it in front of us - just as Iron Council's railroad tracks). Drop your judgements, your expectations, your assumptions. Do not indulge in the dystopian. Challenge yourself to join me (and a less sarcastic Candide) in the Protopian Flipside: a thriving ecosystem of possibilities, waiting to be plucked and incubated into reality. Further refining. The most magical of all: creating a lot of somethings from "nothing." Creating value. Creating the infrastruture for this value to participate in the system.

The Calm Before the Plunge

I'm reminded of a post I wrote in 2004. I had been watching (and learning) from Pelicans hunting off the coast of Malibu.

"Aim with your complete passion. Be meticulous in your planning. Abundant in your release. Pause a moment before you pull the trigger."

I am reminded today because of the calm I feel. Despite the 30 to 300 mph acceleration in my life the last 60 days, the projects I've become obsessed with, the film I created, the opportunities that have unfolded, I have been calm. 

It was not so in January and February of this year.  This was before I went public with any research results. My "coming-out" was at the Future of Money and Technology Summit, put on by Brian Zisk in my old San Francisco stomping grounds. I was terrified for weeks before I spoke. I couldn't sleep. I meticulous reviewed and went through my research results. They seemed radical. I was terrified with the response I would get. I went through my research for the 5th time, confirming everything I was reporting was cross-checked, triple checked. It was. I had left out the most radical ideas. It was the first time I had presented original research results. (Let me talk to Executives 

The world and it's interest in the future of money, transactions, alternate/complimentary currencies has dramatically changed since January. We have taken our first steps into the new paradigm, fragile it is.

Fast forward to today. Relaxed Awesome was one of my mental mindset goals for the year. And while I failed in the execution of it 8 months prior, today, I am firmly planted in the zero point, center calm.  Holding this space, savoring the relaxed, yet building the energy, increasing the tension, until the spotlight - pulling the trigger and release. 

I hope it blows your mind or at least shows something you had not imagined before.

Giving Attention

Reading Esther Dyson's excellent post about The Attention Economy reminded me of an attention exchange from days past.

I was walking down Valencia Street in the Mission and there were the usual panhandlers asking for money. I wasn't in much of a giving mood, but this one panhandler started walking with me down the street talking to me. I was probably saying something like I don't usually give money to people on the street, trying to shake him off but he would not be deterred. He eventually asked me to give him a moment of my attention. I immediatelly stopped and turned to face him directly, looking him in the eye, saying nothing, giving him my full attention. Open. Receptive.

This action startled him. He didn't know what to do with my full attention. I said, he had just asked for my full attention, and here I was giving it to him, a much rarer item than the few coins he was asking me for. He paused, took it in for a moment, and then thanked me. For the moment, gave him my full attention - without judgement, without expecting anything in return - and something "happened." I don't know what it was. It wasn't for me to get - the moment was for him. It was a gift. Of Attention. I can't get that moment back, I can't get that attention back, but it's ok. He asked for it - I gave it.

Single Hawk, Murder of Crows

A few days ago, Mr Dog and I came across a murder of crows. I counted over 30 in the lawn and branches of two trees. I stopped to observe and wonder where they had come from and why were they all gathered there. Mr. Dog was more interested in the squirrel in the tree and I watched as he scampered around a tree filled with crows. 

Then there was a commotion and the crows took flight. My eyes caught a bit of brown, different wing shape among the dark flying birds. I remembered the neighborhood hawk. Could s/he be here among the crows? My eyes scanned the tree branches, and yes! there! I saw her mottled brown. Boy did she look beautiful. Feathers were shiny. Well fed. Not a scrawny hawk here. 

But what was going on with this murder of crows? Some wildlife drama was being played out.

In my brief observation of the scene, I saw several bursts of flights. I watched the hawk go after a crow like a fighter pilot shooting it's target. I saw the crows dive bomb the hawk. And finally they would all resettle, crows in trees on the grass, the hawk in a nearby tree, devoid of crows.

When I lived in rural america I didn't watch these scenes play out so clearly in my forested backyard. But here, in West Hollywood, I've got a front row seat each morning.

 

Cinnamon, Coconut, Ginger

Here's one from the Intuited Future:

Custom melanges, created out of high quality locally sourced spices. These personal custom spice melanges will be carried around in precious containers. And it would be safe to assume they will have additional micro/nano/cellular based ingredients.

The Future of Money at Sibos

I will be on the Future of Money panel with a lot of great minds at Sibos in Toronto later this month. And yes, I do think there is a role for banks in the future. :)

 

Innotribe focus session: Future of Money – is there still a role for banks?

Thursday 22 September 09:00 - 10:30 Conference room 3

New payment schemes are trying to enable peer-to-peer money transfers, dis-intermediating the banks. Money is no longer seen as the sole representation of value. New alternative currencies are being created. Facebook credits are now used by more than 250 million people. New payments schemes are being proposed at the infrastructure level of the internet. Currency is open-sourced. How can we create new systems of wealth generation and abundance? What does the future hold for banks and other financial institutions in the wake of massive peer-to-peer exchange? How do we (re)define the role of banks in this fast moving eco-system of new value providers?

 

On the Road

I'm the passenger on a 14 hour drive from desert to desert. The wind blows through the car, kicking up the fine dust that covers everything. I haven't showered in 5 days, but I'm clean thanks to moist towelettes. It's all part of the ritual. The end of the year, the beginning of the new one. Christmas morning and NYE wrapped in a week of hard camping in a difficult environment. 

But it's over. I'm headed back to reality.

14 hours. Hot sun on my lap, burning through my dust soaked pants. I read chicken john's book as we leave the desert, enter the mountains, view Mono Lake and skirt the eastern edge of the Sierras. My colleague and I, we trade stories about places of interest on this road. Previous adventures. We've traveled part of it together before. There was that bar from that race years ago.

I enjoy road trips with him. We can be silent. We can talk. I love his taste in music, his ipod playlists. We sing along. I'm no musician, he's accomplished. I take in the scenery, I listen to songs I haven't heard in ages. The sun sets painting pink across the desert sky. We're at the place the Sierras dissolve into Southern California deserts. We pass the California City exits - a failed 50s future dream. I'm reminded of my many roadtrips on the other side of this road, my NorCal adventures into the magical mojave and Joshua Tree deserts. Chocolate cake and plastic bags.

We look forward to the cool Los Angeles weather, but are disappointed by the 90+ degrees after dark. Entering the bladerunner landscape. I'm left at my door with two dusty bags, a thanks. We both have months of work ahead of us. Socializing is done. The drive is over. We have returned to our city and our many lives.

All Bets Are Off

Several year ago, when I called San Francisco my home, I changed my life. If you go back far enough on the blog you can visit those days. I stopped living by rules, because I realized the rules no longer applied. All Bets Were Off. It wasn't my choice, the bets being off. I just realized my world had changed.

Last Saturday I remembered those days. My old mantra went through my mind. I was the single passenger, sitting in the co-pilot's seat in a small 6 seater Cessna on it's way to a dusty runway in the desert. I feasted my eyes on the brown landscape, broken only by the turquoise of Pyramid Lake. My mind went back to the old phrase, rolled it around in my mind. It wasn't just me the bets were all off for. It was the whole world. The rules in the world have changed. The Bets are Off for all of us now. And it's actually quite freeing.

My Possible Relationship

Sometimes it's the possibilities that do not become reality. 

A dream. A possibility. The pathway to make it a reality, clear - not so difficult to walk down, yet unwalked. I see possibilities. I see the pathways to make them reality. Sometimes, I want them to pass from the veil into this reality. To become. Possibilities that could change my life. A set of dreams come true. Real-ized.

In the space of a moment, the possibility passes through the veil. No longer possible. It's here. In this reality, with the certainty that comes with a choice made, an action, selection. Possibilities evaporate. I pass my hand through the veil. I grasp at the possibility. I pull it close. I feel it's hot breath on my body, pulsing, writhing, taking form. Possibilities growing stronger, weaker. A momentary embrace, puissant, before I open my hand and release. The moment has passed, the possibilities remain. 

Anything could still happen.

My (almost) European Upbringing

My mom was an international flight attendant in the grand age of airlines. Later, me and my brother came along, but she still flew international and sometimes took us along. I remember opening up the cabinet for after school snacks, only to find it crammed with "weird" things like nutella and pignolli and other things I never learned. The bathroom always had that weird British toothpaste. I remember the first time I had sparkling water. My childhood favorites were steak, fries, chocolate mousse and sparkling water. I adored carbonara and refused to believe that spaghetti with tomato sauce was pasta for years. I suppose in retrospect, my name, heathervescent, came 15 years later than it should have.  Now I can drink all the sparkling water I care too.

Enter my first European trip in 12+ years. I hate to admit it, but I was a bit over Europe. I spent lots of travel time before I was 18 visiting this amazing place. I walked around Paris, Athens. Was up at 3am in London and visited all the traditional tourist (and non-tourist) places with my mom, sk8er brother and yours truly as proto-punk. I wandered the bazaars in Cairo and Istanbul (Not Constantinople.) I even ran away from Northern Germany with my best high school friend to Brussels 20 years ago. 

Here I find myself in Brussels - and Belgium again. 20 years after my little international escapade. Being driven through fields on the way to the office. Fields that feel so familiar and yet completely different.

It's a strange sensation. I'm completely comfortable here. I am loving the cool weather and tall green trees more than I could imagine. I love passing the fields. I feast my eyes on the brick buildings. Brick is not a building material much used in my beloved City of Angels. 

I walk the streets, my favorite fluevogs tapping out a rhythm. The boyf would not believe the amount of walking I have done with not a thought. I find myself stumbling through french I had not spoken (except a few phrases I regularly use) for almost two decades. The words and sounds come back. My vocabulary is shit, but I remember how much I loved the way you form your mouth when speaking French. It's much softer than Portugues.

At dinner, the woman at the table helped translate when I didn't understand the waiter asking me how to cool the steak. I think, Bloody in Uma Thurman style, but say rare. Later as we chat, I make the excuse that I am bad at French because I speak much better Portugues. What a surprise, she speaks it too. She with the Portuguese accent and me with my new world Brazilian one. What a surprise. I should be used to these kinds of surprises, but I never am. Delighted every time.

I'm here in this place. I've captured the feeling; but can't describe it yet. The nuance, the difference, the understanding, the comparison. The familiar. The new. It will come. I will describe it one day. I can wait.

 

Failing Pattern Recognition

I used to wonder why my dog seemed to know when the boyfriend (aka S.) got home while we on a walk. At a certain point in the walk, he would stop being interested with the walk, sniffing the bushes or wanting to walk more and instead - huff it back home. Mr Dog would practically drag me the last block home, breaking into a run if possible, down the driveway and up to the front door. 

Yeah, sure, sometimes S. would be home; but sometimes he wasn't. Mr Dog was never upset when he ran back and there was no S. When Mr Dog ran back and S. was home = positive reinforcement that maybe Mr Dog has some secret sense. But he wasn't always right. And when S. wasn't usually home when Mr D and I  got home, Mr Dog stopped dragging me that last block.

I never really got it. Until last week.

I read some research or an article (I forget exactly where - probably here on the internet or in one of my Science/Nature/Science Mags subscriptions) that explained, when a rat was randomly rewarded with a treat 60% of the time he pushed on a bar. He would push it all the time, even the times he didn't get a treat. This helped him maximize the treat - sure he only got it 60% of the time, but that 60% of the time was worth the 40% he didn't get one. 

The study compared this experiment to a similar one done on humans. In the human case, the human tried to figure out what the pattern of reward was to increase the reward beyond 60%. In doing so, the human actually reduced the successful reward to 40 or 50% (I don't remember off the top of my head). So the human, in trying to figure out the pattern, actually reduced it's success.

That seemed to explain my dog's behavior.

Then I started thinking about my behavior - how I tried to understand and recogonize patterns. What if all those so called patterns are actually pure randomness? It's changed the way I've been thinking about some things. 

I think I'm onto something here. I think getting caught up in patterns: trying to identify them, trying to understand them, might not always be so helpful. (Now, of course, there are times/things that do have patterns.) Maybe not everything has a pattern. And maybe some of the more complicated patterns we believe in, may be random or wild cards in retrospect.

 

Farcaster Flyfishing

I'm standing in shoulder high thistles, mosquitoes buzzing around. Two wet dogs are tromping between the muddy bank, the river and the drift boat. I'm holding some poles and my backpack, trying to figure out how to manage to get into the boat. Once I mentally gave up staying dry, I joined the dogs, splashing through the water and onto the boat. 

The boat launch was packed with guys in fly fishing equipment. A line of at least 8 pickups with boats on trailers were waiting to be put in the water. Dogs were running around. Fishing gear was everywhere.  I didn't notice there weren't any women around, until a fisherman mentioned under his breath that it was nice to see a woman fly fishing. I paused a moment, to wonder what I had gotten myself into!

It was Dad's idea. He got into fly fishing several years ago and after lots of research, decided to get a driftboat. The guys who built his boat (the totally awesome team from Boulder Boat Works) were having their first annual get together on the Big Horn in Montana. Last month Dad asked me if I wanted to come along on the fishing trip. Now, I haven't been fishing for at least 20 years. Maybe 30 years. I had lots of reasons to stay at home and work, workaholic I am. Then I realized, opportunities like this don't come along. You never know how long your old man is going to be around. And there's always that Harry Chapin song (Cats in the Cradle) that I vowed never to be a reflection of my life. So I said yes, booked a ticket and packed my bags.  

Back to the Big Horn. I'm in a boat with two guys I've just met and their two dogs. The dogs make me really happy and Chris and Jeremy turn out to be totally cool guys. I chill in the back of the boat as they take turns rowing and fishing. I'm watching them cast and catch, learning to watch the water, read the fish, how the boat moves on the river. There are so many things I'm missing, I realize with an offhand remark about cicadas.

But I'm channeling my zen mind, beginner mind. I've achieved all my goals just being here. Of course I try my hand at fly fishing and slowly get the hang of it. It's physics! I look into the river, muddy clear, and see the river grass (reminding me of the opening Solaris shot) and rocks. I watch the banks, the cottonwoods. I think of Chicken John, Huckleberry Finn and Farcasters. I think about the River Tethys and how that journey may have been inspired by my immediate experience. I have found other inspirations for Simmon's novels - mostly in my beloved Mojave or The Stars My Destination.

Later that night, back on dry land; a group assembles and we drink beers as the full moon rises. So much for the scheduled Perseid showers! But in the light of the full moon, I listen to hunter stories. I am fascinated. I'm the odd man out - first being a chick, and secondly being from Hollywood. But I can hold my own. How far I have come. I drink in their stories. I listen to them talk about hunting elk on the mountain. In my mind I see them spending cold nights, stalking the elk as he backtracks leading them on a circular trail. I see how much they respect the animal. Nature. The Mountain. I'm in awe.

Under a full Montana Moon a door opens and I am transported to another reality. A world so different, so fascinating, so new, so inspiring, so beautiful. The stories reverberate in my mind still. Thank you!

"I went. I went and took. What did I leave in return? My change." - the quotable h

Modern Dangers / Mindshare Reflections

I wanted to share a few reflections after participating in Mindshare and Project Butterfly's conversation around Complimentary Currencies. First, big thanks to the whole team - I thought this was a great panel and was honored to be part of it.

There were the usual few, who focused on the negative, doom and gloom, economic collapse as the end of the world. During the panel, I had a minor epiphany. We as humans have survived more dramatic catastrophes and created more unbelievable possibilities than what we face today.

The human species survived active predation, living in the wild, surviving highly sophisticated killers. (Don't get me started on DinoFelis and the dark African Caves. You can read it directly in Bruce Chatwin's Songlines.) We created language, naming objects we saw, as well as concepts like truth, justice and love. We created written language, using diverse alphabets. We understood/discovered laws of the universe like physics and mathematics.

Compared to those feats, an economic evolution pales. Come on people, we're talking about the method and process of transacting.

This is not rocket science. This is not discovering the laws of the universe. This doesn't have to be predatory. And it doesn't have to include (or exclude) particular values because they are not held by everyone.

Evolving the economic system is something we can do - and do faster and more effectively by working together.

There can be a space for day traders to play the money greed game, and a space for people who are vehemently opposed to this activity. The space can hold for both "opposing views." That's diversity. That's rocks bouncing against each other, shaping and changing each other. That's how we'll discover and learn what works.

Rapid economic evolution. We can do it together. Leave your judgements and preconceptions at the door. I'm not saying it's going to be easy, but it's certainly not impossible.

Speaking at Mindshare / Project Butterfly

Are you interested in Complimentary Currencies? Then join me, along with Hollis, Micki and Sanjay to discuss what is happening in the complimentary currency space at this special Mindshare/Project Butterfly event. Details and (cheap!) tickets here. 

 

The Great Plains

Recent air travel has given the opportunity to shift my view of the surface of the earth. There's nothing I like better in an airplane than feasting (and I do mean feasting) my eyes on this planet we inhabit. Right now I'm gazing down on the Kansas plains rippled with river veins. I'm watching a thunderhead puff up into the atmosphere while grey streaks shower rain west of Wichita, dust rising from the plains.

When I lived in the midwest (Missouri and Iowa) I was always so frusterated that everyone thought the place was flat. OMG - so not the truth if you've ever driven anywhere (well, except maybe Nebraska). I moved far away from the big sky, seeking ocean blue bordered by mountain scapes. I searched out river cracked earthscapes in Utah and Arizona, along with my favored dry naked Mojave mountain ranger.

While recently driving up the eastern side of the Rockies, I was reminded of the great plains. I envisioned great glaciers slowly moving across the earth, grinding, grinding, grinding away at the crust. Leveling. Evening out the rough edges. Depositing rich earth. I was reminded of Hexagram 15: the Mountain in the Earth, which perfectly describes the great plains.

Many many years ago, when I returned to an Iowa winter, from a Brazilian summer (and the only tan of my life) I brought with me a new view of my state. I thought of the plains of the Serengetti - exotic and appealing to me - but only because I was half a world away. If I were to stand in that exotic place around the world, I might find the very spot I was in, exotic and appealing. As I drove the gravel roads through the corn and soybean fields, I pretended I was in as exotic place as the Serengetti. And in some cases, I was.

I look back at the great plains (I'm looking at them now, checker board fields, twisting rivers), I think about the ancient slow moving glaciers. I envision the mountain below the surface of the earth - ground down and smoothed out. I feel that strength radiating out.