heathervescent

Countdown to Blastoff

I was pondering death yesterday when the boyfriend sent me this article.

I am now 55 years old. Like a lot of people in middle age my late-night thoughts bend to contemplations about how short my remaining time is. Even with increasing  longevity there is not enough time to do all that I want. Nowhere close. <snip>

I decided to take the idea of number days seriously, and to revisit my earlier experience of counting down my remaining time on this lovely mortal plane. My hope was that a reckoning of my numbered days would help me account for how I spend each precious 24 hours, and to focus my attention and energy on those few tasks and projects I deem most important to me. Indeed, it might help me decide which ones are most important, which is the harder assignment.

I thought this was an interesting concept, so I estimated my death date and created a countdown. Apparently I will die (although I have died before and will yet again) on September 16, 2054. That gives me 17,145 days left.

April Fools

Four months ago I replaced my car battery, but I never bothered to update the date. Having the wrong date has proven quite delightful. In the middle of July, I looked down at the clock and exclaimed - "hey, it's my birthday!" (It's really in January.) Later in the month, I was driving around with my uber-collaborator Carmen, and she asked me "Why is it my birthday?" My car was registering her birth date - although we had already celebrated it months prior.

Today I had a delightful laugh when I went to pick up my pal Ewan at the airport. It was April Fools. And what an April fools day it is. I mean, it's not even April, so of course it's a fool! That sure lightened up my recent deep mood.

Time Again

It's time to find the passion again. Where have you gone?

What do I want to do next? Who do I want to be next? All these things I have worked for - what do I want to do with them next? Where do they want to go? What is my role with them? Is my time with them done?

A brief analysis of my life/goals this year has shown success (no surprise here). Success and boredom. I don't want to build a kingdom with myself as Queen reigning over it. That is too obvious and easy. I've been saying recently that I want to be a queen - but that's not true. I want the fluidity to be whomever I want to be. My friend writes about this formlessness impeccably. On the surface, I have it. But deeper, I have work to do. I'm tied to things. I get caught up in the wind of ego - mine and others. And yet, I am detached. Stuff rolls off, I pick what I want to react too and how I want to react (yes, I play many fools and bitches in my "re-actions"). Being enlightened doesn't always mean you have to act enlightened.

I've created, achieved what the universe asked. So now what? I want an adventure. Something delightful, with new and exciting collaborators, financial success, a tie to the past that is a slingshot to the future. I want to work on building empires, taking things to the mainstream masses, although I don't want to be tied to the empire. I'm conflicted about using myself as the face of that empire (whatever that may be). And even if I were to be a face of any empire - the empire of heathervescent - that face, that branded heathervescent - is not the heathervescent. (Oh Taoism, how you sneak in here from that mad scientists house!)

I want to be that elusive mythical builder. Known to all, open to all and secret. I want to onstage, in a spotlight where there is no audience.

I think it's time to go underground again. You know, the only way up is down. The remembering on the edge of remembering. The path maker cairns in  LED lights at a rainy AIR concert at the Greek Theatre.

Overheard: Burial

I had a rough couple days this week. Spin down recalibration is always hard for me and some really bad customer service interactions exacerbated my attitude. What happened was I overdosed on people. Most people don't see the introverted Heather and laugh when I mention her - but it's a major (> 50%) part of my self. I am most comfortable alone with my thoughts in nature. Burning Man seems like it would be a great place for nature rejuvenation, but it's exactly the opposite for me. It's 24/7 being around people, the taunt of desolate wasteland.

So yesterday I took off to kiss the pavement. Drive twisty roads that hopefully would not be full of vehicles. Feel the wind in my hair, gaze upon mountains of rock. My hand on the stick shift - in control of my wheels, my destination. Responsible for my attitude. I headed to the Malibu roads via Topanga. Winding my way up Topanga to Tuna, Saddleback, Stuart, Mulholland, Piuma and roads I don't know their names. It was me with the top down and trucks: landscapers, garbage trucks, phone and cable trucks. A lone motorcycle. I stopped and hiked up to the cistern platform. I used to go here for lunch breaks. It was deadly hot and I didn't feel like hiking into the valley, so I sat under some bushes and started reading a book I brought - listening to the birds rustling, the crow caws, the wind blowing up the hills - smelling the valley.

Some time later a car pulled up and some teenagers got out. I heard them come up the path and wondered if they would see me. I expected them to pass on the path and I would be left to the silence again. But they stopped nearby - apparently not noticing me.

I could not help to overhear their pet burial. They came to this place to bury their pet bird. Two girls and a guy. They dug a grave with a stick, buried it, said some last words, made a little shrine and left.

After they left I continued reading for a bit and then decided to leave. I went over to the burial site - a moist part of earth with a stick and three rocks on top of it. The birds in the bushes rustled and chirped. I thought - what a gift from the universe - to overhear a burial. That made me think that maybe I'd do my own burial. So I did. And when I left that place I was lighter than when I arrived.

Re-integrated Problems

Well, it's all done. Playa unpacked, laundry done, and camping gear put neatly away. It even looks better than before. How's that for kicking ass? Way to go Heather. Pat on the back!

Well, you see the problem is this. When you are hyper-efficient and you've wound yourself up it's great to get things done, but then you're done and still wound up and hyper-efficient then I am kind of at a loss.

I'm at one of these lulls right now. Don't get me wrong, I have stuff to do, but it pales in comparison to the work last month. And I've fallen into the bored trap, where I latch onto an idea/s, because I am intrigued by the idea, just to play it out chink style, to stir the pot.

But that's a lame reason to do those things. It's time to get disciplined. To get back to a calm focus. Because there are still a few things I'd like to accomplish this year. And now, is as good as any, to do them.

cut loose

Everything is in flux. Movement in the clock tower. The monkey mind speaks

• all bets are off
• make it all optional
• "I don't know my future"
• Live life like I'm on vacation
• there is no baseline

I could freak out about the destination unknown, but it's my most recent opportunity to make my future exactly the way I want it. Theme Song for the day: Destination unknown (click to play). Lyrics after the jump.

How can you reset the baseline, when the baseline is arbitrary?

Playa enlightenment

Each year, a general theme becomes apparent. This year, two showed their faces. Here they are.

1. There is no baseline
2. Unicorns are the new Hardcore

Baselines are arbitrary. They are like lines in the sand - they can be drawn anywhere and mean anything. These lines in the sand are also the beginning of my exploration with boundaries and segmentation.

As far as unicorns are concerned, don't think they spend their days prancing and preening. Nope. Unicorns are the new hardcore. I will explain later, but trust me on this.

Gas, Water, Food, Shelter

It comes down to the basics. We don't always remember that when the basics are taken care of.

Several years ago, I went on a solo motorcycle trip from Berkeley to LA to Joshua Tree to Mono Lake and back to Berkeley. It took me 5 days. It was my first taste of the desert and traveling alone. I got my bike stuck in the desert pea gravel and somehow managed to get it back on pavement with all my gear still packed on it.

The day I remember was when I awoke in Joshua Tree after a sleepless night. Dreaming of shamans while coyotes ran though my camp. I drove through Amboy, I drank in the desert heat. It was over 120 most of the day. I ran out of gas outside of Barstow on my way to the 395. I was almost blown down as I skimmed the pavement east of the Sierras. The only things on my mind: gas for my horse, water for my body, food for energy and shelter against the elements.

I arrived at Yosemite at dusk. Determined to push on, I started to enter the pack and was greeted with black sleets of rain soaking through my desert gear and slick pavement peppered with fallen rocks. I was exhausted from 12 hours of desert riding. I spied a light on the road and pulled into Tioga Pass Lodge. It was packed. I looked like a drowned rat. I prepared to beg to sleep on the store floor, but there was still a room.

When I went back to my corporate job after that trip, certain things just didn't seem important. Compared to what I had just experienced, I couldn't get worked up over due dates and product features. My worldview was reset.

It's exactly this reset I go to get in the desert. Most of the time, I visit my desert - the empty, barren mojave. I don't go with huge groups of people. I prefer to go alone or with one companion. You see more things that way.

In the desert, you can't remember you name, cause there ain't no worldview to give you no pain.

Paradigm Shift

There are things we believe today - things that science has taught us are true - that are not actually true at all. Big things. Things that make us believe the world is the way it is - but it is not. Things that will change the way we see the world.

When I was in grammar school I remembered learning about the solar system. How the sun is the center of our system - but the crazy thing is - it was not always believed to be this way. Before science discovered that it is really the sun that is the center, people believed the earth was the center of the universe. People also believed that the earth was flat and not a sphere.

It wasn't that science had failed those early humans that obsessed me - it was how the new knowledge changed their worldview. The Shift. What was life like when they thought the world was flat, what about after? Did they even know they believed the wrong thing?

And then, in a horror of horrors, it dawned on me, that there are most likely huge beliefs that I believe (and everyone else living along with me) believe as well - in some far far future time, will be shown to be false and incorrect. I could not bear the burden of believing a falsity - being unable to seek out the truth - my 7 year old brain could not bear it. But there was nothing to be done about it, so I went outside and played in the hot humid Iowa air.

But still this idea haunts me. I know that big idea is out there. That big paradigm shift is nearby. The one that will rip the fabric and when the light bleeds out we won't be able to ignore it anymore.

Spare some change?

If your practice is good, you may become proud of it. What you do is good, but something more is added to it. Pride is extra. Right effort is to get rid of something extra.
  - Shunryu Suzuki

It's also about impeccability.

A warrior know that he cannot change, and yet he makes it his business to try to change, nevertheless. The warrior is never disappointed when he fails to change. that the only advantage a warrior has over the average man.
- CC

Well, that means I still have a long way on the warrior's path. I still get mad when I don't change, when I don't know what going to happen before it happens, when I'm not superhuman limited to this body. The good news in this, is that I still have a lot of time to work on myself.

The Phantom Heather posts

Just because I will be away from my computer for over a week - with no hook-up that I'll leave you hanging. It's my longest disconnect from electric juice in at least 2 years. Instead, for every day I am gone, I'll leave a poem, a quote, an introspection or revelation. I'll leave you a reminder of geek events I won't attend. And I'll warn you about parties I'm throwing.

I leave this morning, driving up the 395, gazing on the ragged Sierras and bringing with me The Purple Tornado. Some, I will see you there. For others, I will see you soon.

What is a hobby?

What happened to hobbies? My impression is that it used to be that people had a day job and on the weekends or after work, they would work on their hobby. The John Deere Tractor engineer would build wooden hand-made games. There was a distinct line between the hobby and work. Let's see what wikipedia says about this activity.

Hobbies are practiced for interest and enjoyment, rather than financial reward. Examples include collecting, creative and artistic pursuits, making, tinkering, sports and adult education. Engaging in a hobby can lead to acquiring substantial skill, knowledge, and experience. However, personal fulfillment is the aim.

What are hobbies for some people are professions for others: a game tester may enjoy cooking as a hobby, while a professional chef might enjoy playing (and helping to debug) computer games. Generally speaking, the person who does something for fun, not remuneration, is called an amateur (or hobbyist), as distinct from a professional.

An important determinant of what is considered a hobby, as distinct from a profession (beyond the lack of remuneration), is probably how easy it is to make a living at the activity. Almost no one can make a living at cigarette card or stamp collecting, but many people find it enjoyable; so it is commonly regarded as a hobby.

That made me wonder - do I have any hobbies? In one view you could see most of my activities as a hobby: passion about LA, enlightenment, desert camping/survivalist skills, spy/superhero skills, art or LA technology community. The difference btwn a hobbyist (ie amateur) and a professional is the ability to make money doing the work. According to Steven Pressfield, the different between the amateur and professional is your decision to be professional. However making that decision is not the biggest battle - it's consistentally sitting down to do it. (Allow me to tangent on Pressfield - he is one of the top 3 heathervescent gurus)

Most of us have two lives.  The life we live, and the unlived life within us.  Between the two stands Resistance. 

Have you ever brought home a treadmill and let it gather dust in the attic? Ever resolved on a diet, a course of yoga, a meditation practice? Have you ever felt a call to embark upon a spiritual practice, dedicate yourself to a humanitarian calling, commit your life to the service of others? Have you ever wanted to be a mother, a doctor, an advocate for the weak and helpless; to run for office, crusade for the planet, campaign for world peace or to preserve the environment? Late at night have you experienced a vision of the person you might become, the work you could accomplish, the realized being you were meant to be? Are you a writer who doesn't write, a painter who doesn't paint, an entrepreneur who never starts a venture? Then you know what Resistance is. (Read more)

What is it about the hobbiest? Is it they are following their passion while they keep their day job? I remember my own turning point from putting my dreams on hold to living the life. In doing that, I was energized, em-powered, and more fulfilled. (Pss. that's why I wrote how to get your heart's desire.)

Have you heard this story: woman learns she has cancer, six months to live. Within days she quits her job, resumes the dream of writing Tex-Mex songs she gave up to raise a family (or starts studying Classical Greek, or moves to the inner city and devotes herself to tending babies with AIDS.) Woman's friends think she's crazy; she herself has never been happier. There's a postscript. Woman's cancer goes into remission. (From Mr. Pressfield again.)

Of course, I also got addicted to following my dreams and making them happen - a game I played with myself. (I tend to not be very competitive with other people, however I am extremely competitive with myself. I am my own worthy opponent.)

 

But back to hobbies, and the work life that I used to think was the norm. It's not any more. The work world is all bets off too. The 9 to 5 day job is going the way of the factory - being performed by machines. What is left of our humanity? What is left of our livelihood? What can never be replicated by machines (or any other human for that matter)? Our passion. Our passion for the things we love. The things we do regardless of renumeration. Work no longer includes the "=$$$". (Ok, let's be serious Heather, well yes, work does = $$$, it has too.) Well the passion does = $$$ too.

Don't expect to change careers and make the same amount you've always made. (Then again, you might!)  Ask yourself "how long have I been following my passion?" Are you a black belt in it? (Ask yourself via Steve Pavlina.) If you're a black belt in anything, you will kick ass. And if you kick ass in your hobby, is it really your hobby anymore?

Inspiring Friends are like Magic

In the past few days, two of my good friends have played or sung Magic by Olivia Newton John. Of course I knew the song. It was popular in the 80s, the 80s, but I hadn't heard it recently. I finally listened to the words and wow! It's an awesome inspiration and has been stuck in my head for the past 3 days. The music is easy like a Sunday morning - so easy listening! A new music mantra.

And the two people who re-introduced me to it are equally awesome and inspiring. Thanks to you both, you know who you are!

Here are the lyrics. Click to listen to free (via Napster)

Come take my hand
You should know me
I've always been in your mind
You know that I'll be kind
I'll be guiding you

Building your dream
Has to start now
There's no other road to take
You won't make a mistake
I'll be guiding you

You have to believe we are magic
Nothin' can stand in our way
You have to believe we are magic
Don't let your aim ever stray
And if all your hopes survive
Your destiny will arrive
I'll bring all your dreams alive
For you

From where I stand
You are home free
The planets align so rare
There's promise in the air
And I'm guiding you

Through every turn I'll be near you
I'll come anytime you call
I'll catch you when you fall
I'll be guiding you

You have to believe we are magic
Nothin' can stand in our way
You have to believe we are magic
Don't let your aim ever stray
And if all your hopes survive
Your destiny will arrive
I'll bring all your dreams alive
For you

It's a whole new game with different stakes, when you dream on a global level. Personal ego has no place when you are a tool of the divine unknown.

Feeling Stymied

Everywhere I go, I watch, I see people doing things. How do people decide what they want to do? What they are interested in? In what to participate? Who to be? Which subculture to participate in? Who to be? What to be? Everywhere I go, I see myriad of worlds - options, choices. Which one to be. Where to go. Every choice makes a step in a direct that has long standing affects. Marriage. Children. Career. Art. Travel. Awareness. A step lower: Going out to dinner. A boy/girlfriend. Networking events. Creating a web site. Buying paint. Buying plane tickets.

Paralyzing Clarity. Like the waters of the Vanne Aqueduct. The water is crystalline. There are so many possibilities, choices. Possibilities realized, possibilities unrealized and in any permeation.

But it's not really paralyzing. It's so beautiful, I've gotten caught up in the view. I've forgotten I'm the watcher. I've forgotten I'm a visitor. I've gotten distracted.

I don't have to like you

I've recently had a flash of enlightenment. I'm sure some of you will think - awww - I thought that way when I was 5. Well then, good for you. But recently I've realized I don't have to like everyone. I used to think there had to be a good reason to dislike people - but there doesn't. Some people are assholes. Some people don't like me. And that's totally fine.

I don't like everyone. I do like a lot of people. And I have a very long shelf filled with many observations (on hold) about many people. I don't like to judge people. (Partially because I don't like to be judged myself.) But why would I hang out with people I don't like, when I can hang out with people that I do really like? It's like the whole strength's weaknesses thing. I used to focus on being good at many things - now I just want to kick ass at what I kick ass.

I feel so liberated realizing this. Just because I don't like you, doesn't mean I hate you (that expends too much energy). But I have a lot more fun (and I'm sure you do too) when I'm around people headed the same direction I am.

So there, I give myself permission to dislike people, for any reason or none at all. And I'll completely understand if you don't like me - I'm not me for mass adoration.

Nice, Importance

Yesterday in conversation the boyfriend mentioned this quote

It's nice to be important, but it's important to be nice.

That got me thinking. I don't necessarily disagree with the sentiment, but I disagree with the things you might assume because of the sentiment. It's not mutually exclusive to be nice and important. Just because you are important, doesn't mean you can't also be nice. Being nice is not necessarily better or worse than being important. Being nice makes it easier to get along with people and have a better time. It's social lubrication. I also think it helps having a positive outlook - as long as you don't put yourself into the victim role.

Importance is a value judgment. So is being smart. (And so is being nice.) Different people value these characteristics differently. Some see intelligence/smarts as the top of the totem pole. Some people will do anything to be important. But can one say that being important is better/worse than being smart? (or being right?) Well... you could say that - but that's based on your personal judgment and don't be mad when someone has a different point of view.

These are variables. And from one point of view, one variable might seem better then another, but in the grand scheme, there is really no difference - except on the micro level.

Which reminds me of something I've been pondering recently - relativity. I've been thinking about Buckminister Fuller's quote: We are all astronauts aboard a little spaceship called Earth.

Everyday I wake up in the same bed. I live in the same house, I walk my dog on the same streets, I am the same person. It's the same bed, but it's not in the same position. Nothing is fixed - even on terra firma. Everything is changing, moving, I'm moving right now, sitting a my desk in weho wishing for a cup of coffee.

This has little impact on my life. A few days ago I was completely unaware of being on a moving planet through "outer space". But being aware of this constant movement can change the way I think about things and how I interact with people.

Irritations

Yoga class today was irritating. I look forward to these times blocked on my schedule. I love my teacher. She has an innovative and unique style. She pushes us and yells and has an awesome accent (she's brazilian). And my body has really done amazing things through her leadership. But one student in the class is a self-important whiny princess bitch. Even her name, Bridgette, makes me recoil.

She's often late to class. Always asking people to do things for her like turn on the lights or turn off the lights or complaining about the temperature. ALWAYS asking the teacher to check her alignment. Complaining that this or that pose hurts her. Then she fidgets around in her bag in the middle of class, talks to other students, interrupts the teacher, puts her mat at the front of class where the teacher's mat is. She takes other student's things (we use rope on a bar and today she totally took another person's place midway through class!) And she's like 40. Way too old to be acting like this. And those are just the irritations I can remember.

During class I try to take a zen or enlightened approach. I ignore the distraction. I think about how horrible her life must be for her to act like this. Well, I don't have to think too hard, she shows her life so clearly I can't help but see her ugly self. I use it as a reminder to work on myself. To not get caught up in her tendril bait. I can use her as a fabulous petty tyrant and work to be less self-important myself, but then I go back to why I go to yoga in the first place - the pleasure along with the physical activity.

Why hasn't the teacher said something to the distracting student? Does she not have guts? Is she not irritated as well. It's not just me who is distracted by ugly 40 year old x-14 year old model student. Other regulars in class have the same feeling.

I vacillate between saying something to irritating student myself and not. Should I say something? If so what would I say? What about stopping going to this class all together? The whole reason I was going for the exercise enjoyment. I can easily go to other yoga classes and get the same feeling. Should I stop going? I'm not sure what I want to do. (Please comment your enlightened, detached view.)

Update: WWDJD? Impeccably. What takes the least use of energy? To go to a different yoga class.

---
On another note, I just realized why something/one/situation that had been irritating me for several months - and it's still unresolved is so confusing/perplexing. Because the situation should have never happened in the first place! I didn't make the situation occur. Other people misbehaved, misunderstood and crap happened. Crap that is not my crap to deal with. It's their issue and it's up to them to resolve it.

I've got bigger fish to fry. And it's their loss they're not gonna be at my fish fry. Cause I'm a damn good metaphor cook and my parties always kick ass. ;)

2007 Goals - revisited

I had a YIKES moment this month. I thought, OMG, it's July, did I already achieve my goals for this year? And then I thought, what were my goals for this year anyway.

What's a goal-orientated girl to do if she can't even remember what she set out to do?

Well, a leisurely stroll through my blog reminded me that 2007 is the year of PIMPING AND PROMOTING. It's the JESUS YEAR (cause I'm 33).  It's about calling up all the best of heather past and reactivating her (like aikido heather - thanks Andrew for starting the dojo down here!). It's about the LA TECH COMMUNITY. It's about it all coming together. It's fractal ordering of chaos, respecting the beauty of chaos.

So yeah, I'm right on track. And now, I'm kicking it up a notch (well, everything's been kicked up a notch.)

Here are the fractal chaos I'm meditating on for the rest of 2007.

• Hedgehogs, Unicorns and the Sleeping Giant
• "Don't hold back" (link to mp3, my new theme song)
• The Sleeper Must Awaken
• Surprise and the Jewels in Time
• 40 days in the desert (maybe it's not 40 successive days)

World, the time has come to push the button! (sorry Steve Jobs- Read about Steve's anti-button crusade)

Saying goodbye feels good

You know how the heart's desire series says you gotta make room? Sometimes it's hard to say goodbye. But you gotta make room for all the new exciting stuff. So today, I say good bye to the blogger heather. It's my last month at Daily Mantra and Blogging.la. Admittedly I've not been posting much on b.la, but it's finally time to say goodbye. Daily Mantra is getting a new editor, Nicole and she's going to be great.

I'm excited to be pulling all my blogging back to heathervescent. And I've got a couple new websites I'll be telling you about soon (I hope), and then there's the whole LA Tech thing. It's not like I'm hanging out by the pool filing my nails. ;)

San Francisco, Carving a Groove

I'm north again. I came to have some meetings and attend wordcamp. I'm honestly not sure why I'm attending wordcamp. I think it was just an excuse to get me up here again, although it's been great seeing peeps and getting the wordcampy lowdown. The weather is gorgeous. It is windy and cool. I'm not used to this cool undertone. I've missed the wind.

The city seems so empty. Where are all the people. It seems so relaxed and laid back. Almost like a small town. Why do I see it like this? Was it like this before? Am I remembering differently? Or has it changed? Or have I changed? Am I uptight again? One-track focused speeding at the speed of light? (Oh yes, most definitely I am moving at the speed of light.)

I just returned from a midnight ride to the east bay (and back). The freeways are the way I remembered. Those grooves I carved so long ago, still there. I was able to slip back into them. And at the same time, the grooves were not the same.

I spent many hours on the bay bridge. Mostly when the toll was a mere buck (it's $4 now! yikes!). I realized as I was speeding back to SF tonight, that I'm carving a new groove. That that's the reason I'm back in SF. To carve this new groove. It's going to take some time - I will be back. But there's always a bushwhacker that paves the way for the trail, that eventually becomes a dirt road, a paved freeway, an information superhighway to infinity (and beyond).

San Francisco, I am soaking up your sweet wind, your little puffy clouds of fog, your live oak and hills of green. I am a sponge. The desert, we need these reminders, we need your shower of information rain.

Pink Goth Powerpoints and Brenda Laurel

I'm working on a pink goth powerpoint business plan. Who would have thought this was possible and that I would do it, but yeah, it kicks ass and sometimes I love my job. Part of this love is running across Brenda Laurel again. Man, she just totally rocks. I'm adding her to my list of inspiring kick ass women I want to be like.

ps. geek dinner recap is coming. It was a blast!

Weekend Recap

I felt like I didn't get a lot done this weekend. I hate feeling that way. But when I enumerate what actually happened, I apparently was very busy. Is it effortless living, an integrated life or lack of satisfaction? Or all three? I enjoy finishing things, but my real satisfaction is in planning them and then the moments of creation. Finishing leaves a hole, a gap, a vacuum.

• Awesome pow-wow helping crystallize where I want to go, and questions to ask myself to get there.
• I finished the unicorns.
• I thought a lot about Carmen and the pod.
• Puppets! and Uni!
• Unplanned midnight neighbor hang time. (Dog walking at midnight can improve neighborliness)
• Business meeting at Zuma Beach in Malibu, which included boogie boarding! (I have really missed swimming in the ocean.)
• Topped off with a visit to a magical Topanga hilltop compound. I'm still reeling from the reality of it. It was the location of dreams, but for real. I dared not take a photograph, but the memories are etched in my mind.

Today was a strange day. Too many things going on, started out with this 2 hour philosophical discussion about science and magic - both horrible words to describe what we were describing. Sometimes I just want to live with my worldview in peace - or blow my head off. But today, there is still work to be done and I continue to feel like I've accomplished nothing.

ps. save this post for the next LA Angst.

Building to Burn

I've built lots of fire. I love building fires. Whether they are tiny cholla cooking fires in the Mojave or a van full of pallets, I like coaxing the potential from the wood with a flame.

It has been a long time since I have made "art". This year, she's venturing out, I bound and put her on a pedestal long ago, she is dusty and covered with a tarp. But no more. That's what these unicorns are about. And since I am going to Burning Man, I might as well make them to burn.

It's an interesting experience. Spending time crafting, manifesting my vision, only to destroy it. It's been a while since I have built something physical. And as I build it, I envision it's destruction. Does this make me do cheap construction? Because I know it will be destroyed, do I make it easy to destroy? No, actually it is quite the opposite. I'm building these unicorns to survive (well, other than in a fire). So knowing they will be destroyed makes no difference in the quality of my construction.

Ok, so what about ego? Isn't art about ego? Aren't artists egotistical about their art? Well, in my case, I am trying to create a vision I have. I suppose it's my vision, since it's from my head, but I could also just as easily say I'm the vessel for the vision. I'm the one listening. I heard the vision and bought some tools.

Another interesting observation, since I'm building my unicorns to burn, is that I am detached from them. I have invested the time to build them the right way, but I have not invested so much of myself. In fact, I have invested very little of myself. I am the tool being used by the universe to build these unicorns to burn. Just as I am a tool being used to create and do the many things I do. I'm looking forward to the excellent fire, that will destroy my beautiful creations. In fact, I will probably build it up, to be a fire worthy of their destruction.

Unicorns and Religion

How did I miss the Invisible Pink Unicorns? (All this time I have been talking about invisible pink elephants...) Unicorns on wikipedia. And more invisible pink unicorns?

The Invisible Pink Unicorn logo represents atheism.
It is a fusion between the mathematical void symbol and the stylized representation of an unicorn.
The void symbol (empty set Ø) is an allusion to nothingness and in this case meaning "no faith" or "no god". The unicorn is a reference to a kind of story that atheists often tell to make their point.

Very delightful - but I am far far far from being an atheist. In fact, I had a delightful conversation with two Christian missionarys when I was in Sedona. The part that freaked me out the most (but really didn't freak me out that much) was that I could completely understand and agree with most of what they were saying. In fact, I live my life pretty much exactly the way they live their life. The big exception, I don't think Jesus is the only bridge. The other exception, I have no interest in going to heaven (or hell for that matter) I have my eye set on something .... else. The other exception, I don't quote from the bible (although I was quite interested in what they were quoted and totally understood the point of the quotes).

I do believe that I speak a different "religion", "spiritual" language. The problem is, I can speak many languages... but people don't all speak my language. That's ok, because I have a direct link/line to "G-d" which I call something different.

My favorite part of the conversation was when we were talking about good and evil and they were telling me how deceptive Satan was and I said, exactly, the whole concept of good and evil is a deception (because well it is). It is a method to distract us and get us to play on sides against each other - when really we're all one big thing. The deception is that there is no good and evil (and yet, there is most definitely good and evil).

Anyway, talking with them crystallized my possible explanation of this paradox (at least in my mind). Back to the circle with a dot in the center. Or, when you peel all the layers of the onion- where is the onion? (ps, it's the layers)

Angsty = Awesome

So last night I made Kaliya (who was in town visiting) meet me at LA Angst. I dug out two of my old journals 10 minutes before I left. One was the infamous Brazil journal - which is green and falling apart. The other was a journal I occasionally write and give updates to (it was started in 1991 and there are years between entries) - hey, who says I have to have only 1 journal? I mean, I've got this blog, my paper journal, my nav log, my GTD notebook and a variety of other notebooks. Anyway, I even found some poetry stuffed into the brazil journal (amazing because I burned all my love letters and most of my writing 2 years ago)

Here's the line up from last night. It was a total blast! Thank you to Leah (top o the list) for organizing it.

LeahPeah

Mocha Momma

Katronika

Redleather

West Coast Grrlie Blather

Heathervescent

Yay for us!

No Surprise Here

I got sucked into this quick karma test. The response is no surprise, but remember enlightenment is not necessarily a goal, it's a state of presence that is as flittering as it is possible.

                       

TrueLifeKarma.com

n, Your Karmic Alignment is: Enlightenment!

Score: 23 You have a lot of positive karma, and have good intentions in life. People would normally characterize you with being a kind, sensitive giving person. Remember that by creating positive karma seeds, they will soon blossom. If you work hard enough it is capable to gain enlightenment, and maintain inner peace.

Mainstreaming a Subculture

I drive around LA, I go to the grocery store. I drive on the freeway. I go to the Korean spa and pass through various neighborhoods. I go to the club, driving down sunset on Saturday night. Everywhere I go, I see communities. Subcultures. Choices. Options. Possibilities. People can be leaders and invisible at the same time. Subcultures are everywhere. It's a matter of who you want to be. What you want to do. You can rise to the top of any of them. You can create any one of them. You can participate in many numbers of them. It depends on what you want to do. And who you are. And who you want to be.

There are communities that are mainstream. Communities many people participate in. Many people identify with. How do you create a community? How do you take a subculture mainstream? _you_ don't create a community. _you_ don't take a subculture mainstream. A community is a collective vision created by participants. When that vision is so tantalizing and appealing to many people, easy to integrate their views, fills a void/need and allows individuals to grow and stretch, is easily integrated and has a bit of momentum, that community/subculture can go mainstream.

So how do you create a collective vision? And how do you make it so tantalizing to appeal and integrate to many people? And how (and who) decides when and what is appealing. And who leads, herds, trims, guides that vision? And how does one know what to include and what to trim? What to pay attention to and what to ignore? What are the applicable trends, who are the guerrilla glue connectors and what is the explosive firestarter? I know the answers to these questions. And, I know how to do this. The question to me now, is what is worthwhile of my efforts to do so?

Brazilian Morning

Ah, the sweet moist morning before the sun rises. Water on the pavement. Stench of sweet sewer. Raking, sweeping of leaves. Cafe. Mas ondé é o pão de queijo e o cafezinho? Marisa Monte, Bossa Cuca Nova, Suba singing in my ears. I sit on Sunset Blvd watching the cars, my memory miles away. Tehno muito saudade pra Brasil, mas - mas não é pra o brasil. É pra a pessoa era. Mas, eu me lembro, e no memória, seja ella hoje.

I'll take that memory, the feeling and apply liberally to the day. It's always great when you can inspire yourself from the past. :)

Note to self:
port characters
port translation
port grammar reminder

Some reminders...

"My life is a mess, let's have a Brahma!"

"Sai dess, abre un Skol!"

"Uma cerveja antes de almoca e muito bom, pra fica pensando melhor!"

"Aproviete!"

Ah, the memories.

Recapitulation - why - a Hofstader story

Recapitulation is an exercise to recall, review, release, and recharge energy.  It rids a person of assumptions and preconceptions. Recapitulation is remembering or more precisely, reviving events and experiences. [Source]

I've alluded many times to Douglas Hofstader's new book, I am a Strange Loop. One of the reasons this book fascinates me so much, is that much of Hofstader's descriptions, describe almost exactly knowledge I learned through other sources.

But first, I'll come clean. I studied and practiced the teachings of mystic G.I. Gurdjieff actively for 5 years and in a school for at least 3 of those. (Much of what I know of Wilbur's Integral Theory reminds me of those Gurdjieff lessons.) Then I flowed into Aikido and practiced martial movements and paratheatrical rituals. One fine Berkeley day, I was coming back from aikido class and on a whim, I stopped in the temporary Berkeley Library. I frequent bookstore more than libraries. I had no idea what to look for. Them I remembered someone told me about some teachings of don juan. It was the last person I talked to at college. I had no idea who the author was, so I started looking up titles. I couldn't find that particular book, but I found the section that included other books by the same author. I picked two at random and took them on vacation with me. The author turned out to be Carlos Castaneda, and the first book I read, was The Fire from Within. (Shamanism was not new to me. Another fluke library stop, more than 10 years previous got 13 year old Heather obsessed with Lynn V Andrews. I accepted these stories as the myths and fairytales I had read.) I read the stories with a skeptics disbelief - the activities in his books are truly impossible, but I found myself agreeing more and more on the explanation and belief structure. It was so similar to my own, I realized that I was holding in my hands a book I would write had this book not been written. Rather than get angry (like I did at Taoism 10 years previous) I wanted to learn more. I gave myself a year to experience these impossible things. That year was the first of many years of practice and studying personal freedom - true freedom.

So what does this have to do with Hofstader?

Much of the more difficult concepts I learn (and try to explain) about true freedom Hofstader has explained with the ease of mathematical terms, analogies and stories. He easily explains Plato's cave - much more eloquently than Plato did. Here's an excerpt he uses to explain our warehouse (of symbols) and I can use it to show the importance of recapitulation.

(book excerpt after the jump)

Bjork Days - Rolling with the changes

"I don't know my future after this weekend
and I don't want to"

Today was another rolling with the flow days. I had planned to run a bunch of errands when my car wouldn't start. Battery dead. Similar to the tire blow experience in SF, fluidly I took care of the problem. Just jumped in the truck and added a pep boys stop to the errand list. It took all of 15 more minutes out of my day. Lots of phone calls and conversations. Lots of possibilities. Even some not so good news that surprisingly didn't phase me. (I must be seasoned!) Despite all this, I hold one vision in my mind. A vision I dare not write until it starts to become real (as soon as  I buy some sheet metal!)

These are the days I love the best. When there are many possibilities, opportunities and things change on a dime in ways I could have no idea. This is the turning of the tornado. I'm not always this fluid, but when a day like today happens, I feel good. Really really good. And happy to be alive, practicing being the human I strive to be.

Thoughts Percolating

Friday I was hit with a big does of project creativity working on the various unicorn forms for my burning man camp. I was mocking out the 7ft metal structure, when staring out into the yard, I spied a pair of sawhorses. And the vision of transformation hit me. Or rather a vision that transformed the sawhorses into unicorns hit me. So I mocked it all out and proceeded to plan to work in wood.

That put on a trip down memory lane. Back to shop class in 8th grade (I was one of 4 girls) and metal working class in 7th grade. It was great fun to map out the plans and make templates/patterns. I imagined this was similar in a way to what Suz did when she was a pattern maker. And I could see the challenges in doing this work. Then I spent 2 hours at home depot gathering materials. I realized how thankful I am that I do not have to cut the trees myself or plane them for smooth edges. And I realized the amount of work it took to be a carpenter back in the day. You had to have tools, building knowledge, wood and tree knowledge (like do you want to map out your template against or with the grain of the wood?) and which wood is best for the thing you are working on?  And then of course my mind wandered to Jesus. (Disclaimer: do not think I am going all Christian on you, I am not - it's just the Jesus Year, ok.) And I was thinking about being a carpenter was about creating. Starting from a basic idea and some basic materials, a carpenter makes real an idea - cabinets, furniture, a house.

And the act of creating, the practice of creating something over and over gives one a lot of power and insight, not to mention skills.

A comment on my suicide post a few weeks ago. There is a follow-up rattling around in my head called, the human is dead, long live the human. When the human sheds its form and becomes something different and at the same time retains human shape.

Which reminds me of detachment. Recapitulation. Self-observation. The Confessional. The act of Confession, practicing Buddhist detachment, the warrior's method of recapitulation, and Gurdjieff's self-observations methods are all methods to the same end. Awareness of the many facets of our personality, (bonus points for understanding that others have many same and different facets), detaching from those facets as our ultimate identity (realizing the collection of facets is not You), and forgive oneself when those personalities manifest themselves to us/in us again.

Hey, wasn't that one of the roles of the pantheon of Gods? (I am just remembering an idea I had about this.) It was because the Gods/desses were making you do it, or you were under the influence of that Goddess, or you pissed one of them off. The Gods gave standard metaphors for a  personality characteristics that you and I have. It's a facet inside us. The gods and goddesses are in_side us. But they are not us. Yes, we are puppets of the gods, until we are master of ourselves, and then the gods are the puppets.

Anyway, enough on this subject for Sunday morning. I've got some projects to manifest.

Transcendeffervescence

A friend sent me a link to a galley page by Jonathon Earl Bowser. I don't usually go for this type of imagry, but one caught my eye. Gee, I wonder why??? Source.

Now, if she only had purple hair....

Socially Underground

June has arrived, and with that, my calendar has emptied. For months and months I've had every weekend booked, most evenings booked and been basically running from one thing to another, when not working on several projects. That kind of experience is great for my self-importance, and it keeps the activity level high but it's not what I'm really all about. In addition, I've been slowing down my email and internet consumption. I finished the Lathe of Heaven, then I went on to read Stanislav Grof's impossible happenings and now I'm reading Douglas Hofstadter's I am a strange loop. These are my favorite types of books. I love the culmination of technology, identity and consciousness.

So this blog post is just to say, that yeah, I know I haven't been out and about recently, and I probably will not be as much out and about, because I'm working on some things that are really important to me. And soon, I'll share them with you.

I'm comitting suicide

<disclaimer for my mom: Don't Freak Out.>

Those of you who have seen me in a more morbid moment - or have known me for a long time, know how I feel about suicide. I'd do it in a moment, and I ponder the possibilities more than a casual observer might guess. I have come to terms with my desire to end my life, and yet, I continue despite, or perhaps maybe because of that desire.

I've recently come up with two solutions to the suicide question. The first, is my simple desire manifested through the use of technology. Don't get me wrong, the only reason I haven't done this yet is because I have too much to do on this earth and wow - it's such a cool place, with so much to learn and explore. But much of the time I share it with total idiots and that makes me very sad and wish I did not exist at all. Other times I want to remove myself from the equation - just stop existing. This happens a fair amount with work. People just piss me off, they make stupid decisions, they don't see the right/impeccable/most efficient way to achieve what they want to achieve. It's very frustrating. More so when there is a boss or client or someone you work for.

So, how could I commit suicide today? or someday soon? (without limiting my actual learning possibility in this world?) Two possibilities:

1. Have a clone of myself made, and then kill myself. Hey, I could even watch and tell myself what it is like.

or 2. (which is what I've been thinking about most recently)

2. Go with the assumption that I have already killed myself. That I am already dead. Act in my life as I would if I was going to commit suicide or had already. I could even stage my own funeral like in Satyricon. The for some purposes (but not necessarily practical ones) I'd be dead. Note: isn't this basically the same thing Monks do. I remember Paramahansa Yogananda talking about some ritual of burning in the fire, which was ritualistically the same thing.

But more importantly, would be my mental repositioning.

1. If I consider myself already dead, then every day I live is a magical gift. Instead of trudging closer towards death, I have tricked death, and gained an additional day through my cleverness. This is an excellent mindset on it's own. But generally difficult to cultivate. (And would I have to commit suicide over and over to maintain this mindset?)

2. Just because you are dead, doesn't mean experience is over.  Like birth, death opens a great door and far greater transportation. So long suckers.

3. The death of Heather as you know her (as I know her). That includes all incarnations of Heather, the vescent one, hbomb, the sister, the daughter, the lover, the friend, and my myriad other identities. There are many reasons to do this, none of which can be written.

I can't imagine the person I'd be (well, I can, and it's frighting - in an awesome way) if I committed suicide. To die and continue to walk the earth. It would be akin to taking the sword out of the sword kozy. It would be lighting the fuse. It would cut the onion.

Maybe it's finally time. 

The Major

I watched Ghost in the Shell again last night. Remembering the first time I saw it - in the dark University Avenue Landmark Theatre with the John Waters no smoking PSA in Berkeley.

My mind is stimulated as easily as the Major's nipples in the opening scene. As calmly and quickly as the discharge of her rounds. Has the movie so effected me that I have assimilated it's words, or visa versa. Or do both come from the whisper source: susurrator. The gentle lapping of waves on a dark sea of collective unconscious tree sap?

I love the Major's character. Between her, Aeon and Pippi, I had all the inspiration I needed. All the character guidance. The playful innocence, the audacity and techno introspection.

Tonight on the agenda is Part 2: Innocence. A long drink from the river before I head out into the desert again. It's these paths, these journey's, navigating the landscape. The same stories, same landscapes with a different character.

From Writer to Doer

I've been quiet over here because I've been busy. (Isn't that always the excuse?) But seriously, I'm about caught up (except for unpacking) and moving forward on my 5 lines of projects. Taxes are done, office is clean, car unpacked, slow item assimilation. I've been cooking again, even went to the gym yesterday. Cleaned my closet, filed a year of paperwork. Paid bills, sent invoices, made personalized file labels. All in all, cleaned shit up. Got shit done. Not using twitter. Moved to checking my email 3 times a day. And in the space, the gaps, I'm reading, dreaming, scheming. And the creativity has exploded. My project list is full of creative activities, exciting business opportunities. Inspiration all around.

The Future in/s the past

Today is the day. I said my last goodbye's under cloak of darkness. They cypress trees regally standing. The smell of night plants. Two friends picking up the last items. Their oohing and aaahhing didn't help. Who wouldn't love the future? But I've not spent much time at/in the future in the past year. And the road that leads to here and now - the present - was full of much negativity about/becauseof the future. There are many ways to slice/parse/compile the story/world. And ultimately it's up to myself to create it. As someone with a passion for words and communication dancing on the line between fiction, metaphor and clarity, words have power. Poder. Puissance. In the beginning the was the word - the word created the world. And with the stories I tell myself, I create my worldview. (Don't get me started about the nature of reality, science, the scientific method, etc. This is a twisted subject and the truth is in the threads all tangled up, only to make sense once woven into the tapestry of the dark sea of awareness or the places where AIs dare not adventure per causa de lions and tigers and bears.)

However if I create my world view, with words, the stories I tell (myself and others) and those I write here in this blog and otherwhere, then when I write, the future is now in the past. It is. It is more than metaphorical. Yes, there is a literal interpretation (and if you have known me for more than 2 years you can probably guess it). But there is also a meta-phorical interpretation. And as is the case with metaphors, it is much stronger and has bigger, longer repercussions. Repercussions, I can not even imagine. When you dance/play with the future, could you expect anything less?

the shadows of myself

There were many possibilities on how I would live my life. Yesterday I visited a shadow self. High mountains, low desert. Pine trees, hiking trails, twisty road curving up and across mountain faces. I love the rural setting. I loved living out away from people. The nearest neighbors 3 miles down the road. I loved going into my backyard and disappearing for hours on deer trails, exploring abandoned homesteads with cisterns and pantry caves. I love the hot moist smell of the desert and the clear cold nights. The complete connection to the earth. My love for the rural places is my love for this planet. For the animals, for nature not over run with human manifestations. Places where nature trumped human endeavors and I watched entropy encroach first hand, applauding.

I took to the open roads. My love of automobiles comes directly from my love of the land. I could cover more land with the help of my gas powered motor. I kept the windows open and had a long passionate kiss with the earth through the protective barrier of pavement and rubber.

Yesterday we took the same journey. S, Romeo and I piled into the convertible and headed out to Snake Jagger's Art Show in Indian Wells. We took the straight shot zigzagging through traffic, windmills, big rigs. I gazed longingly at the mountains to the south. The rough jagged edges poking up into the sky, unknowingly intending my return. Three hours later, I was carving the curves up the pavement, keeping pace with two state troopers obviously enjoying the drive. The rise from the flats of Palm Desert to the crest of the southern mountains is intense. You cover something like 5000 feet in 15-20 minutes. The land is gorgeous filled with scrub, washes, mountain faces, rocks, rock piles, pine trees - my words can not do it justice, let alone describe it at sunset.

We stopped for Prime Rib at a local cafe and that's when I met my shadow self. A person I could have been. A quantum possibility, lived out by someone else. The dream to live surrounded by more land than people. And I realized, that for every "yes" I've said in my life, to every adventure I've embarked upon and challenge I've met, every metaphorical mountain I've leap off, there is a shadow self, the part of me that took another road, the one that didn't leap, the one that said, No.

Someone so close to who I am, and yet, utterly different.

I see them from time to time. Sometimes they are satisfied, like yesterday, sometimes they rage against the issues I've resolved. Every interaction, meeting or observation of these shadows of myself, incites me to push myself further into the places that not only _I_ dream of - but into the places of my shadows dream.

Because, if they are living out an alternate possibility of my life, then I am most certainly living out an alternate possibility of theirs.

high school all over again

In the middle of my sophomore year of high school I moved to a small town in Iowa and started a new high school. Perhaps you can image what 16 year old Heather was like based on the present extrapolation. No, I did not fit in. I didn't wear the same clothes, or have the same attitude and I challenged myself. I wasn't a punk rocker, I wasn't a goth, I wasn't a prep or emo or hippy or anything. I was myself. One of the ways I expressed myself was through my beaded necklaces.

I had a huge collection from thrift stores. I collected beads and made my own out of Fimo or Sculpy. My peers would make fun of my necklaces, calling me a hippy and other things I can no longer remember. I thought they were lame white idiots out walking around. Clueless. They could have their ignorant opinions and I went to read Kafka and Pirsig and dream of California and open roads.

Two years went by. I said sayonara from high school and graduated a semester early. Moved on with my life and my adventures. That last month as I tromped up and down the stairs I started to see more and more handmade necklaces. An acquaintance asked me how I made the beaded flowers without a loom. Others were making their own beads like I had. I found much amusement in the situation. What they once mocked, they now desired to be a part of.

That's what it's like as a trend setter. All the lame ass early adopter naysayers will eventually jump on the trend. By that time, I'll be doing something novel.

Meta

In the scheme of the universe everything is insignificant.

Sometimes it is such a twisted web, the threads, they are invisible, impossible to unravel. Non-existent and stronger than thoughts.

Heather meets her Inspiration

I live my life like the movie I want to watch. I am the main character and try experience an interesting time. Today, has been one of the major turning points in the story. I will tell the story about the activities in a moment. Now, all I can say, is that from this point on I am someone different.

I jumped into the cab and said "How fast can you make it to downtown?" "15 minutes!" And we did. I tipped generously and slide out and into the theatre. I ordered breakfast: coffee and a chicken quesadilla. The Age of Aquarius was playing on the screen. Auspicious. Very Auspicious. Then the movie started. I haven't heard a Robyn Hitchcock song for a long time. And I haven't regularly listened to him for almost 10 years. The movie I went to watch was called: Robyn Hitchcock: Sex, Death, Food and Insects (or something like that). To really understand Heather, listen to Robyn Hitchcock.

I was obsessed with his music when I was 15 through my early 20's. Not necessarily obsessed with Robyn, but his music, lyrics. They soothed me through my horrible parent's divorce and living with my evil stepmother. (Yes, I did have an evil stepmother!) They inspired me, they crystallize me, and made me want to live, be, the best, most interesting amazing person I could possibly be. I took it as a challenge. I made him my mantra. And I started to mold the person I am today and will become.

Now cut to today. I'm that person. The Heather I always wanted to be (and of course I continue to want to expand and change and be better and explore and evolve.) I went out into the world and became myself. Now imagine returning to, seeing that which inspired you to be like this in the first place. And that is what happened to me today. Thank god the theatre was dark, because I was crying. Why? I am not obsessed with Robyn as a person or his music.

I was mostly reminded of myself. What the songs did and meant to me then. The crystallization of the 15, 16, 17, 18 year old Heather - cocooned in fleshy embryonic nutrient rich fluid - cracked.  Right there in the theatre. I don't know what I am now. Something I can only dream of being. But the Heather that came to Austin, is not the Heather that returns to Los Angeles.

Los Angeles. I miss you so much. I know you are a city full of traffic and pollution and problems and egotistical Hollywood wannabes and assholes. But I love you. You are my home.

Update: At the end of the movie, the director was present for Q&A. Robyn was there! And came up to the front. No one had any questions. I know I only wanted to praise the film. After a long silence, I raised my hand. This is what I said.

Me: "This was an excellent film. My flight left 5 minutes after the film started. And the film was completely worth it." It took a moment for what I said to sink in. (Hell, why did I even say it in the first place, sometimes something inside me takes over.)

The Director's response: "you missed your flight to see this movie? I think that's the first time this has happened." Then he handed the mic to Robyn. He spoke to me saying, something like,

Robyn: Where were you going?
Me: LA
R: Have you been there before?
Me: I live there.
R: Then he started talking like the shadow of myself is on the plane to LA, but I'm here and all it cost was my luggage. And now that I'm here and my shadow self is on the plane back to LA, I'm free. I have total freedom to make up whatever happens next.

I don't know if he realized what the words meant that he spoke to me. It as if God him/herself was speaking directly to me. Indeed that shadow self of heathervescent has landed in LA, picked up her bags and gone along with the plan. While the person here, typing this, has split from the tree, total freedom to do it all differently.

After all this time, all this work, I've finally reached the starting line. The gun has gone off. And here now, when I can be, win anything I can possibly imagine, I no longer care about winning. I'm going to run, fly, swim, drive, harder, faster, better, longer than I have ever before. Just to see where I'll end up. And I'll enjoy the journey all the time.

a piece of the picture

I'm on the 23rd floor of the Hilton in Austin. The sky is filled with black storm clouds. A break in the clouds shows blue laced with orange. It's time for night. Neon lights look stronger in the wet rain. I'm looking straight out on a building. It dominates my view. Looking like an insect en chrysalis, wings about to spread and fly. Or maybe one of those worms from Dune. A single circle eye focuses my attention. I love looking out at it. I'll give you an update on the sky. Black clouds have rolled in. Yellow-Orange shows through like those black paint etch drawings you do as a kid.

I'm being a voyeur. I'm watching the people inside their lit hotel rooms. Curtains open, tvs on, moving people inside. I watch them. No one seems to notice my observation. I make up stories about them. Which ones are geeks, rock stars, bloggers, or the like.  I'm one of them.

The Prankser "S"

I had dinner with my Dad on Friday. He was surprise in town for the weekend and so we went to his old haunt of 32 years ago - Taix. I'll dis on the Taix service in a moment, but for now, I want to reminiscence positive.

One of my Dad's biggest traits is his trickster, pranking nature. I hadn't realized this until Friday. My Dad was always joking around. To this day, he still calls me, disguising his voice. (Last time he called me, he was an Indian from a Dell call center.) This was a normal, everyday occurrence for me, and I braced myself every time he got started.  My brother quickly picked up his skill and the two of them would tease me incessantly. Trying to see how far they could get me to believe them. I hated this, for several reasons. Of course I didn't like being teased, but even more than that, I was appalled that they would "lie" and then deny the lie b/c it was a story/prank/trick. What happened to the truth uber alles? It was more like trickster uber alles. I couldn't believe/trust anyone to tell the truth. 

I always wondered why I didn't get the pranking skill. I am way too honest for my own good. Why couldn't I spin huge stories and trick my dad and brother? I thought, I'm just not a prankster. (Although I identify with many trickster archetypes.) Friday at dinner, I saw differently. Whereas my Dad and brother prank individuals, my pranks/tricks/mobius flips are on concepts, ideas. I like to prank societal norms. I prank to make people question, think - not to belittle or make fun of or take power from people. I stir the pot. My pranks don't leave pie on your face, but instead (I hope) twist from your brain, a small spark, that had been previously dark.

Crtl-Alt-Reset

You know how sometimes you have to reboot your computer? Some program has been sucking your memory behind your back and you have no idea why everything is running slow? Well, I just identified a major memory leak. My system was running super suboptimal, so for the short-term, I've rebooted. But the long term is that the application has a huge memory leak - and I'm in no position to fix it. So I'm searching for a new program to replace the memory sucking bloat on my desktop. Maybe I'll bust out my programming skills and build the application I really want.

But for now, I'm running more efficiently.

Some thoughts

For the past several days I've had a strange concoction bubbling in my brain. On Friday I went to The Perception of perception conference, which was good fodder. The first panel was amazing and asked some interesting questions, like

• Have we always perceived the same way? (Which made me remember about a neglected book on my shelf. (The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind)
• When Margaret Wertheim (who runs the Institute for Figuring) lead us through her images showing the impact space and perception had in medieval times, I was reminded of the idea/concept of a theme of our times. Culture has changed and with that culture, the worldview of the world. We assume we are related to the people in our past histories, but perhaps only biologically. Who is to say that we perceive, and think the same as our ancestors. We are evolving.

And then there are the skeptic books I've started reading. They frustrate the hell out of me. Not because I necessarily disagree with the content (because I actually agree with the 6 points on the cover of Don't Believe Everything you Think) but because they are argument books. Granted I haven't finished them yet, but so far the books are filled with fact after rebuttal after logical explanation after derogatory attitude. It's tiring. I'm not looking for someone to argue with. In fact, I don't want to argue - facts, experiences, stories, logic, anything. I'm not trying to prove anything. I'm trying to understand. Yeah a lot of things are possible, a lot of the possibilities are not possible now, but may/will be some day. A lot of those possibilities may never be able. But who has the last word? Who can say for certain? Scientists?

We used to think the world was flat. Then we thought we were the center of the universe. The fallacies we believe in today will be proven as wrong by our future ancestors. Or else the knowledge will disappear. What are the things we believe as truth today that will be shown, proved as false? So why bother spending a lot of energy proving these things as false. When it's all falsity anyway. It's all layers of the onion. Broken clockworks in a huge melting snowball.

The point I try to keep in my mind is that. If it's all false and there are more things in heaven and earth than Shakespeare can possibly imagine, how do you live? You live in the mutually described/defined reality - the collective worldview we humans hold in our minds. To us, it's true. Which means we live in a shadow world of sparking images we have created in our minds. And since we are such good dreamers, it's a fine world and a hell on earth at the same time.

Postscript: This reminds me of some paintings I saw at the Magritte show. I was walking around looking at his stuff and thinking, this is all just fire and images in a cave and then I came upon the image of the image of the fire canvas in the cave. And I meta-cized it. They show could have really hit this point home on 2 more meta levels. First off, there is Magritte's painting of the cave with a fire and outside on the ledge is a canvas with a painting of the nearby mountains. Meta1: Paint the wall on which this painting is hung with the images of a cave wall. You could include a painting of the fire as well. Meta2: About 6 feet out and 3 feet over from the wall painted as a cave with Magritte's painting on it, build a representation of a fire. Have a spotlight from the fire pointing to the canvas in Magritte's painting. You could even have the couches and sofas sitting around the fire.

You can continue to meta-on out, but these two metaviews drive home Magritte's point - and one I seem to go back to over and over without realizing it. And it's a point that was reminded me by Donald Hoffman on Friday, when he showed us optical illusions and walked us through our visual interpretation of the image we saw.

Passion Pancakes

I'm passionate to a fault. I care too much about things I shouldn't. And this is both my best and worst trait. Because of my passion, I have energy to spend on things I think are worth wile and should be done. I meet other people who are passionate and the energy increases and something amazing gets done. My passion plus your passion equals explosion. But what about when my passion doesn't match yours? (metaphorical yours). This is the problem. You see, passion doesn't have a graduated switch. You can't turn on a little. It's there or it's not. And if the passion is there and handcuffed, that passion turns to anger, rage. That's the dark side. And it's a very very dark side.

So what to do?

The logical and Buddha view is to detach. But that doesn't work. What to do with all this passion a blazing and rearing to go? You can't shut down a forest fire in 1 minute. But you can redirect. De-attach the passion from the rage and apply it to something that really matters. Take the bubbling mess of a stew and put it outside on the doorstep to cool. Use the hot burning to make something more appealing - like pancakes.

So that's what I'm doing with my passion this morning. I'm making pancakes. Would you like some?

All quiet in Blogoland

I've been really quiet the past couple weeks of the year. Quiet on my blog and quiet with my voice. I've been thinking, percolating, melting, blending, coaxing, planning, discovering, meditating on the unknown. And to do that, you have to be quiet.

I don't have any great revelations to share at the moment. The cake is in the oven baking (no - no buns in the oven over here). And that is all I will say at the moment. Remember how mom used to make you be quiet while the cake was baking? Well that's the way it is over here.

And I do love a good cake!

5 Things

Well, I got tagged. Thanks Micki! ;)

I'll try to think of things that you won't find blogstocking me. But I guess after I write them, they'll be blogstalkable.

1. I am an introvert. Most people see me out and about with my people face on. But if given the choice of partying with John Perry Barlow or hanging out at home, I'll probably be at home. (Sorry John, you know I still dig ya!)

2. I was obsessed with Robyn Hitchcock in my teenage years. He probably influenced me more than any other musician with his florid lyrics and well florid lyrics. I started losing interest in Robyn in the last years of my marriage. And then they were both done.

3. I went to modeling school and won several "beauty" contests. Once as Miss Spring Beauty. I was also a baton twirler and competed in that. I had a lot of trophies, banners and plaques stacked up for a while, but then I threw a bunch out. I still have my baton and sometime pull it out and practice a bit. I love twirling.

4. I went to college with Chris Pirillo. He was the lockergnome then, I wasn't heathervescent yet. He actually admits that he's from Iowa. I don't. I haven't seen him since then, but we have exchanged email.

5. My favorite word is Jacare (accent on the e) and I've studied 6 or more languages academically.

Now I have to tag 5 people... that will have to wait until later.

Update: Tagged so far: Carmen, Pinky,

Neural Net

I left the party and hiked up a wide wash to the base of a small mountain. At the furthermost tip a pile of crumbling rock surveys the view. I rest here, like a hawk, the west wind screaming down my chest. I feel it pierce every fiber. The sun is hot, the wind wild, but I am not cold.

Directly in front of me is our motley camp. A collection of vehicles, tents, shade structures and fire-making devices. It is a tiny speck on the edge of the dry lake. Ominous rocky mountains surround, secure and hide the place, the huge space. Scrub grows in the wide washes, until nothing grows demarking the edge of the lake. Off-white smooth flat for miles.

I find a wide crack between the rocks. There is both sun and shade. Cool rock and hot stone. I set down my pack and lean back, face the wind and look out onto the landscape.

I love the desert. Its rough mountains raising out of rocky washes. I love the angle landscape and the tricks it plays with my mind. Twisting my perception into another reality - a new possibility. The wind has silenced me and yet caresses my body. I am a small being in a vast desert. A pair of eyes looking out from a crack in the rock.

My mind wanders as I turn my view east. The mountains open onto a vast plain that is not playa. Do not make the mistake and think it is level. The desert is full of anglepoise plains that do nothing but twist your perception upside down. I see myself as a tiny self-contained being, wedged between rocks. Similar to this neural net Mez writes about. I've just finished reading Hyperion again, so Brawne's story is fresh in my mind. And the possibilities of enhanced brains with tiny nanotechnology nets that settle in our brainspaces. Kind of like my nestle between these two rocks.

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There are no words for the ideas that pour out of the silence of the desert. Only the audacity to make them real in some future reality.

House for all time

I'm never going to have a house for all time. More than ten years ago I looked at a house in upstate NY. An old Victorian thing with formal rooms, big columns in front, redwood planks buried behind plaster and lathe, a row of lilac bushes in full bloom their purple and purple fragrance bobbing in the spring breeze. That was a house for all time.

I've always dreamt of a huge house, rooms filled with eclectic furniture. Always ready to come home to. A place to keep my various projects. My monkey and horse and magic oak tree out front. (Yes, ok, I was seriously influenced by Pippi Longstocking.) A place called home. That would never change, nor go away, even when I might.

I've found many a home, bought it, moved in, made it beautiful, lived in it a relatively short time, and inevitably moved on. Passing the home onto another set of hands in better condition than when I acquired it. I'm doing it again.

A little over a year ago, I bought a house with a friend We found a house and bought it and lived together. We delighted having tricked time and held parties deep into the future.

But the future is a tricky subject. And life often gives you turns and twists. They say the future is much like the present, only longer. But that is not exactly true. The future does not go on inevitably, it ends. My friend was called away and I got a boyfriend whose first words (after I told him I lived in the future) were a trickster's taunt on putting the future behind us. I knew he would tear me from the future, eventually. Well, eventually is no longer the future, it's today.

And soon, the future will be the past. It will be one short chapter in the life of heathervescent. I can quip, well, I've been to the future, I lived in the future, I used to own the future, the future is now in my past. And when the future, is no longer a concept of time unfurling in front of you, and merely a construct of an object in the past, then what?

Will I be destined to merely live in the present? Or will some other possibility present itself. . .