heathervescent

what's on my whiteboard and in my head

The morning has brought Bjork out of the box and although things have changed from when I was Bjork happy a few months ago, it is still very pertinant. I'm amazed at how wonderful Bjork is and how she very easily describes my emotions and conflicts and feelings about relationships and love.

Every morning I wake up to see my whiteboard. Of all the office equipment I have ever used, a whiteboard is my favorite. I keep various colored markers and scribble notes and thoughts and things I am thinking of that I want to remember. I keep it at the end of my bed, so I see if before I go to sleep and when I wake up.

I was reading it last night and this morning and I saw some items I wrote on it before I left for the desert. My friend Marlee was in town and we were having a lot of discussions about relationships, what we're looking for in relationships, whether we were emotionally available, male/female dynamics (from the standard typical moral model to one based around sorcery). I fully intend to be in a relationship that transcends typical male/female role models. I've already had the relationship where I wore the pants and was the man. I'm not interested in being the traditional woman dependant on a man. And I'm not interested in a fully equal partnership - because true equality does not exist, it is always in flux. Marlee was saying that since I am a woman, don't try to be another role - be the woman. Be the beautiful, soft object there that the man comes home to cherish. I have a problem with that because I'm not interested in being put up on a pedestal or being a typical woman - or a typical human for that matter.

Although I did have a flash of enlightenment on why men are paid higher than women - it's because society and traditional corporations still believe that the man is supposed to take care of the woman and so of course the man needs to make more money because he has to support a woman, while all a woman has to do is support herself or find a man to support her. With this thinking I tried on the hat that maybe I would just find some sugar daddy to take care of me, open my car door and all I would have to be is my effervescent self, look beautiful and take yoga classes every week. Oh, yeah whatEVER! That hat lasted on my head for about a day.

So where does that leave me in identifying the characteristics for a relationship that I want to have? It's put me on guard - watching, paying attention to the characteristics of the various men I interact with. What do I like? What's a passing interest? Do I believe a long term relationship is possible? What about the "K" question? I've been making mental notes. I'm not on the hunt - I'm gathering information. It's an interesting technique and one I have used in all other facets of my life, but never applied to this one. By doing this, I'm also learning a lot about myself and what I like. It's not so random and interesting things pop up.

Anyway, I've totally digressed. I was going to type about my scribblings on the whiteboard. They are not so personal. Marlee was reading some book and we pulled the sentences out of it.

--> Forgiveness dissolves tension and promotes patience.
--> Gravity = the Attraction of Mass for itself
--> Love = the Attraction of Life for itself

I found these interesting to ponder. I don't know if I agree with them - but they roll around in my head and make me think in a new way.

T'ung J^en / Fellowship with Men

above The Creative, Heaven
below The Clinging, Flame

The Vault of Heaven in Flame
The man rose over the city on a dome. Domes are a popular structure in Black Rock City as they are structurally sound, easy to raise and use minimal materials. The Man's dome was open to the sky. Red lights picked up radio signals from two years ago. Some messages returned in their entirety, some were changed and some were new responses. The mad scientist showed me how to use the listening device to point it at one of the red lights and listen to the sounds.

Fireworks went off around the city letting its citizens know the time for the burn was very soon. I meandered through the crowd looking at the costumes of this city - my city. I saw amazing EL wire art. On the back of one figure was an animated EL Wire Jedi/Samurai winding up and making a gently curving sword strike. I lost Mariah and Joe when we stopped to look at the electric Anubis Headdress. There was an umbrella twirling with ribbons. All eyes turned to the man, as his electric neon arms started to rise and stopped in the pre-burn pose.

Fire tempters juggle poi, hula hoops of fire and spit fire. It's a hot magical night and the man watches over all from high. The dancers clear out. We will burn our god tonight.

A hush echoes through the crowd circling the man as we stretch our bodies, looking and listening for the first flicker of flame. The sky explodes with fireworks. Splashes of silver and gold. Fountains of fire. Sprays of colored sparks. And below, the first glow of oranges as fire appears in the dome, contemplatitive at first then raging into the dome struts full of magnesium. The dome burns pink, red, magenta, blue. A leg catches fire, a wrist sprays green fingers. Fire creeps up the legs into the left arm. The dome is ablazing. The sound of structure breaking, a crack and the left arm falls in a gradual deafening blaze of fire and grating metal. His head is still untouched. The body blazes blue green and then dies into the yellow orange of hot burning wood. The man has shed his metallic clothes. The right wrist sprays green. Explosives shoot skyward from the dome as the first part falls in with a deafening crash. It is the beginning of the end for the dome. Screeching of breaking metal heralds the descent of the right arm. The dome ablaze and collapsing in large pieces. The entire left side breaking away from the center and falling in with cinderflash. The smoke rising in tornadoes of flame and smoke and cinders. Fire elementals dancing around the many smoke funnels spiraling into the night sky.

The man stands alone on the center dome supports. The sides have completely collapsed. His face is still untouched by flame. Then in an instant the support breaks and with a graceful plunge, like a line of Chinese calligraphy, the man slides to the left and plunges into the flames.

you have the power

you can change your life in an instant. with a moment. with a pause. with a choice. you change your life by changing the stories you tell yourself, with the stories you tell others. one experience spawns many stories.

the power comes in a silent pause and just as easily returns when the chatter starts up again.

the glitterarmi

Cleaning up the playa dust

I spent all of today cleaning up from the past week. Unpacking the weasel, washing the camping gear, filtering through the coolers for remnants of food, sorting through the costumes, shaking out the glitter. As of now, the car is cleaned and smelling sweet and I have my post BM manicure/pedicure. How nice to get those final bits of dirt out from under my nails. (Thanks Doug.)

Im still processing what happened out there. What did happen? And the aftershocks of my time in Black Rock City are starting to hit my "everyday life". I'm getting hints from Mr Jauntie from all fronts. Be a tricky clever fluffy rabbit. Step carefully among the rattlesnakes.

I strung my horns over my head as I took my first step in Los Angeles. I walked into practice regardless of my self-importance to slow moving earth affection. I wonder about this decision I have made to live the myth. I step outside to practice in the light of the bar with a favorite colleague. A moth draws to us. At dinner later, he tells me, that the goals do not interest him. I am inwardly reminded of my natural inclination to make goals. He is right, it's all about being right here in the present. This world has much to offer. Why focus on the future goal. Cut your teeth today.

Tazii

I posted the first set of photos from Burning Man. The Tazii album on the left is the wonderful group of people I had the great fortune to camp with. Tazii was an amazing camp and we had such a great time. I can't wait until next year or at least the next Tazii party. Love you guys!

what is burning man haiku?

Burning man is a city as
Eraserhead is a movie about a man and a woman and a baby
I wonder if China Mievelle was there.

when dreams come true

I'm listening to Stevie Wonder's greatist hits volume 2. He croons about never having a dream coming true, which reminds me that many of my dreams have come true. Before I left for the desert, I looked at my definition of my dream life and realized I was living it. So what do you do when all your dreams come true? Live happily ever after? It seems to me that I've reached the starting line and now I can really start living.

returning to the "real" world

I'm back in civilization. Covered in playa dust and head spinning attempting to process the past 7 days. It's good that I'll have a long drive down scenic 395 to let all these things percolate in my brain. Watch Mt. Whitney raise herself to white splendor over the high desert and lone pines and joshua trees.

I went to burning man with little expectations but expectations none the less. (They were shattered.) I went to burning man with intention, for some kind of mark or pointer or something to pay intention to as I leave the starting line. (And a character I did meet.) I went to burning man to experience something. And experience I did. (From playa blisters to raining cinders.) I went to burning man to solidify my recent change. I will not know how solid it is until I return.

"I went, I went and took. What did I leave in return?
My change."

Oh and it wasn't all just spiritual, it was a hell of a lot of fun too! As I wandered around the playa, I realized that my dream to be in a Fellini film had come true. It was better than Fellini, it was real. (As real as costumes can be.) And I was a fish in the wonderful bowl.

Now it's time to live that myth. (and no it's not the burning man one.)

Motorcycle Madness

I've been spending a lot of time with Lady Knight recently. Mototravelogue is coming up, but as a preview, check out these photos and movies from my recent adventures. Heather's Motogirlies Cabin Run Photos. Paula's Cabin Run Photos. Jurij took these movies of motorcycling in the Santa Monica mountains. This one (Shannon, Wendy and I at the Rock Shop) and this one (motorcycle's eye view - I'm three up from the camera man) are the best.

BM Costume Preview 2

My friend Gloria came over tonight and we fine tuned my BM costumes. She also took pictures, so I posted them for a preview. I'm really excited. The EL Wire on these costumes is going to be great. I've got a bit more craftmanship to do tomorrow, but it's all looking good. Everything needs to be packed and ready to go by Wednesday.

I picked up a really excellent southeast asian three tiered umbrella today at the Silverlake festival. I also met some sisters of perpetual indulgence there. I'll write more about that and the drag racing tomorrow.

I have a castle in the vicinity

The Sargasso Manuscript is a twisty, tricksy film and my story follows the intricate weavings. On Christmas day I was introduced to, who I call, a Mister Jauntie. I was riding in the passenger seat of a small SUV on a sand road in the eastern mojave. Mr Jauntie revealed himself from the shadows of the sand road. He stood tall, with long pointy horns, like antelope horns, with a look of "that's all it takes" across his body. As we drove on, the figure blended back into the shadows on the road.

A few months later I was driving through the mojave desert again. I was alone. A long stick caught my eye at the side of the road and I thought of Mr Jauntie. I stopped my car and got out to inspect. It was a slim, slightly curved stick. I picked it up and held it in my hands. It wobbled and the smooth worn wood felt very comfortable in my hands. It was very long, much taller than me and I was just able to put it in my car. It took up the entire length of my small SUV.

Many months later, after I moved to Santa Monica, I figured out what that stick was. It was a bow. And I learned more about Mr Jauntie. Mr Jauntie is known under many names: Coyote, Loki, Cupid, Devil, Love.

Love is the trickiest and most effective emotion of humans. When afflicted, humans will change their lives for love. Love is the wild card. There are those who will do anything for love, are addicted to love, have an ideal vision of love and are looking for it. Avadoro says of it "I reckon that from one end of the world to the other, the story of Love is always the same." Love is a fickle game.

The Sargasso Manuscript is pure delight. Creepy and calm. Simple and spellbinding.

"You have a castle in the neighborhood? You didn't mention it." - Alphonse
"It just proves the beauty of modesty." - The Cabalist

"I've lost the feeling of where reality ends and fantasy takes over." - Alphonse in the Cabalist's Castle

"A true researcher proceeds among riddles." - Don Pedro?

The film is a surreal adventure full of surprise, confusion, delight, horror, love and self-awareness. Can stories become self-aware? There is no way to describe my delight in this movie. It's the same level as Fellini's Satyricon - a series of stories that unravel and reveal their interconnections and exoconnections. And the chilling almost final shot of the film: Alphonse watching himself walk away with the two sisters, only to have himself walk back towards himself to retrieve a dropped shoe from himself and to find himself looking at himself in the mirror with the sisters and their destination faded.

As the beautiful Cabalist's wife says, "All these adventures begin simply. The listener thinks it'll soon be over, but one story creates another and then another."

heading a north

I'm about to load up, lube the chain and and mount. Lady Knight and I are heading north to meet up with burners, motogirlies and a special friend. It's a lot to pack into a short jaunt, but it's what I'm doing. I'm excited to get my custom leather suit started by Helmut at Helimot's in San Jose.

Well, gotta load on up. Type at ya later.

Questions from Jonah

I'm finally catching up on my blogsites, but missed this last friday. I'm doing it anyway.

1. How long have you lived in Los Angeles?
I've lived in here as an adult for exactly 2 months or 62 days.

2. Were you born here?
I was born in Whittier, CA, which is as you know, nearby.

3. How long did you plan on staying here originally?
Um, I plan to stay here indefinitely.

4. How long do you plan on staying here now?
Indefinitely.

5. What keeps you here?
Great weather, my convertible, a beach I can swim at, fabulous motorcycle roads.

6. What makes you want to leave?
Nothing yet. I guess I'm still in the Honeymoon phase.

7. What is your biggest surprise about living here?
That I completely and utter love it down here.

8. What is your biggest disappointment about living here?
That Yahoo didn't have it's shit together to hire me, but then again, that's probably good in the long run. I want to have a life and maybe I've had enough experience with big corporate Internet companies.

How to live life like you're on vacation.

A couple months ago Carson gave this advice to a friend of his who was agnsting about his life state: "Why don't you try living like you're always on vacation?" This advice was promptly discarded, but Carson and I talked about this. I wondered, how would you live life like on vacation? Vacation was on the simple level, not working, but a deeper exploration made me realize that it's not just about not working, it's about choosing what you experience. I've been keeping this in mind as I lived the past 8+ months and trying to put it into practice, but it's been hard. I've been ungrounded, detached, not hooking onto anything, uncomfortably floating around in the human soup. It occurred to me that there is an easy way to live life like you are on vacation. Ask yourself, "Self, what do I want to experience today?" Choosing what you experience is being on vacation. You may say, "Today I want to experience exhilaration and the open air." Then get on your bike and ride along Ocean Walk - or jump in the convertible and drive up through the hills. Even when the car breaks down in the middle of Venice and Lincoln, you can choose what you want to experience.

So that's how to live life like you are on vacation: Decide what you want to experience, and then experience it. It's all up to you.

Burning Man Costumes

The man burns in 25 days and I am working on my costumes today. With very minimal shopping, but major digging out the old costumes, Heather has put together 6 different costumes. I've taken some pictures of them in their safe ziplock bags. I may see if I can get someone to take pictures of me in them before the burn. It's amazing what you can do with a hot glue gun and some imagination at the fabric store. I'm sure I've spent too much money already, but hey, it's Burning Man. It's a vacation, it's a participation, It's an experience man and I'm not going to do it half-way.

The only thing on my mind is glow. I've got blinkies on order and I want to use some EL Wire to light up my costumes... so the glow is in the works.

Glow, glow, glow ideas....

after enlightenment

it's true. after enlightenment you still chop the wood and carry the water. just because you have seen the light of the universe doesn't mean you get whisked away to the land of eternal wise. you see more. see more motivations. understand people in all their glory. you still have to have to live and eat. You will pass your time doing various things - and it doesn't matter what you do - as long as you do them.

That goes for those of us who aren't enlightened yet too. ;)

random thoughts and drives

A lot has been percolating in my brain the past couple weeks as I drive around, stop with some quasi drama, keep the calm, deal with drama, keep going as if no bump in the road.

I've been thinking about loneliness and what it means to live alone. The freedom, the power, the sadness, human connection, touch, interaction. What do _I_ want? It's something that I know most of the time and occasionally get confused and unsure and insecure. Especially as I try on different personas (go outside my comfort zone) and hang out with different personalities.

Typing of personas, I've been trying on the slacker persona with no luck whatsoever. I like to _do_ things. It's in the doing of things that I am. By rubbing myself up against experiences (by doing things) I learn about myself - what do I actually do in any given situation, other than what I think I would do. It's interesting and enlightening.

I've been watching a slew of movies: Naked Lunch, Eraserhead, She-Devils on Wheels, The Village, What the bleep do we know. They're all about creating a new reality. I had never seen Eraserhead before and I was surprised at how the story was completely main-stream - which makes the expression of it (Lynch's style) all the more obvious. My downstairs neighbor's cat yowls just like the eraserhead baby - which made for a strange awakening occasionally last week.

And then I've been exploring the roads en motorcycle and convertible. Yesterday Carson and I drove around the Santa Monica Mountains on various roads that connected to the Mulholland Highway. These roads are amazing. They somewhat remind me of northern California Marin and to the north roads, but there are way more canyons. They are sharper mountains, young and rugged and very ominous. The mountains are powerful and raw and somewhat scare me in a way I'm not sure how or why. As I drove on these roads the view of my life shifted, I could live up here - in fact - I've always wanted to live in a rugged place like this. It seems so far away from civilization, but Malibu is a mere 15 miles away, the suburbs of the San Fernando Valley are another 15 miles away. Santa Monica is not much more than 25 miles away. The more this percolates in my mind, the more it appeals to me.

I also did some exploring on the east side of the Santa Monica Mountains. I wove my way up the valley side of Griffith Park and scooted through it stopping by the Carousel. I was riding my motorcycle and the organ circus grinder music caught my attention. I could almost recognize the songs - they were Felliniesque. As I pulled into the parking lot I was greeted by a scrawny coyote waiting around for scraps. I parked my iron horse up under a tree. Removed my helmet and jacket and sauntered down, clop clopping in my Daytona riding boots, towards the spinning circle. I bought a ticket and a gum ball and smacked my teeth blowing bubbles until it was time to mount a wooden horse. The time came and I was pulled to a horse with a carved helmet piece. As I write this now, it seems perfect that I would be drawn to this horse, but at the time I was unaware of the connection. I jumped up on her, my jacket laying across my knees and we waited for the music to begin.

I have this delight of riding carousels. The music, the wind, the spinning that blurs the outside world. As I rode on the spinning circle, watching the empty horses go up and down in mechanical motion, it occurred to me that it doesn't matter which horse I got on to ride. The ride was still the ride and would end and begin. The horses were there for me to ride. They could not get cut lose and run free like the mural at Ocean Park and 5th in Santa Monica. And that was ok. Because I was there, sitting on one, watching the way the world works. Replace the horses with people and personalities and costumes. I buy a ticket and can try on any costume I want. But I have to pick the same costume for the duration of the ride. Some carousels have only horses and others have all kinds of fantastic animals. This is another costume parameter. The organ music added to the surrealness of my vision. I was reminded of the woman swinging in that Fellini film, the faces with their dark eyeliner, the eyes outlined, the mouths in various gestures of which words do not exist to categorize.

The music stopped. The movement stopped. I got off and walked up the hill to Lady Knight, where she was waiting for me under the trees.

Photos from the Rubix Cube US Champs

I finally got around to uploading some pictures from the Rubix Cube Championships held at CalTech on July 10th. Check them out.

chill out

I love the cat on the bike. It's kind of repetitive but interesting. The link. The cat needs a helmet though.

going crazy with Yahoo! Avatars

I finally upgraded my Yahoo! messenger and am completely blown away by the avatar features. Yet again, Yahoo come up with the cool shit. I suppose I should install the new AIM Client too... just to do the checking out. I'm really interested to watch what kind of relationship Yahoo and AOL end up having... and what happens with the G wild card out there.

cool blog alert

I stumbled across this interesting blog. Erik Benson. He's traveling through some cool places in Europe....

blogging craziness

This is really crazy, but crazy cool. It's blog trading. Like stock trading, but with blogs and I guess eyeballs and popularity. Sheck it out mang. BlogShares - Fantasy Blog Shares Market.

conversations with the road

Highway 5 and I have had an intimate tumultuous relationship this month. I spent another 5 hours on her paved slick surface yesterday attempting to beat the heat as I drove south. She's been showing me her pleasures and delights. A field full of datura plants, their white trumpets singing in the late morning sun. The snob and I tease the big rigs with her top down, my blonde hair blowing in the light. They blow their horns and spill bits of their loads of tomatoes, onions, garlic or carrots. I see their spilled load at the side of the road and think of stone soup. I could stop and make road soup. I see the bloody death of smashed tomatoes by the side of the road. The orange horns of hundreds of carrots sticking up from the top of the truck. I stop at my favorite places: Mike's Roadhouse Cafe, the Beacon Station, Willow Ranch. I know where the rolling hills turn to the San Gabriel's (it's by Gorman). I feel the change - in smell and by feeling as I leave the bay area, drive down the San Joaquin Valley and then cross the hills again. I love the dry golden hills. The grape fields with oil wells. The sparkling blue water of the aqueduct.

I think about what we as humans are doing to this planet. I've been an environmentalist all my life. But how the hell can I as a puny human know how the earth wants to evolve? Maybe we humans are here to do exactly what we are doing? And a kick back to "the good old days" is like absorbing your little toe - or stopping the development of your ability to perceive with your eyes or fingers. How can we know how the earth even sees it's self? Can an ant have any concept of how I see it? Or can I have any concept of how an ant sees it's self - or can I have a concept of how YOU see yourself?

The road and I have these conversations. She tells me stories. I ask questions. I watch the scenery and drive too fast and listen to music too loud. It echoes back to some words I wrote in my past: "tires kissing several highways." The connection I have with the road is an intimate connection. I feel it in the rubber of my exoskeleton. I experience it in the wind. I feel a certain connection, freedom and delight in the drive. Because after all, the journey is the destination and as sure as time keeps passing, we will all reach our destination eventually.

more coolness

Did I mention that last week I judged the US Rubix Cube Champions? It was really cool. I'll post more on the 12 hour experience at CalTech with photos in a bit. New world records for solving the cube one-handed and 4x4 sided were set!

Introducing Vanda Ms Schlegel

I've got an orchid named after me! Yes, it's true - this really is named after me. Vanda Ms. Schlegel. Let's hope she wins some awards next year.

found object

I woke up yesterday morning in a house I have stayed in for 20+ years. It's the only house that I have that kind of relationship with and that relationship will end on July 30.

On my backpack I found a book by Gretel Ehrlich, The Solace of Open Spaces. I picked it up and inspected it. Gretel (which is a fabulous name) is from California and went to Wyoming for a documentary and stayed. I'm excited to read about her adventures on the plains.

I am somewhat perplexed as to where this book came from. Who left it on my backpack? But that doesn't really matter. I'll eventually find out or I won't. Regardless I'll read the book.

friday morning venice

I stopped at the Venice farmer's market today. With a mere 6.50 in my pocket I bought 3 delightful grapefruits, a bunch of asparagus, a bunch of basil and a crispy white peach. It was great. But the fruits were not the highlight of my adventure. Right by the grapefruits was this diva dressed in red. She was wearing a fabulous red velvet hat with sequins and embroidery on it. She showed me her leopard skin boots that she painted brown with nail polish. Her eyes were lined in dark black and her lips matched the color she was wearing. I immediately liked her - she reminded me of my friend Maureen. Vivacious. Exciting. Living life to the gills. We started talking about the fabulous grapefruits. She told me how she likes to decorate them with sparkle dust for the eyes, liner, marabou for hair. I loved her. She was great. She then showed me this fabulous artichoke she just bought - I told her she should make it into a corsage - she loved the idea.

In the 10-15 minute conversation she told me other wonderful stories. Like the time she had a police escort as she wore mink in Venice. The time she was in Hollywood and several men knelt down and worshipped her with the last one stealing her favorite hat. (What a heartbreaking story.) About the time she was singing show tunes to the radio and some people over heard her and applauded. They told her she had talent. (She told me later she used to sing professionally.)

We talked about money and how many people are only concerned with people who have money and looking like they have money. I told her my favorite money story - of my multi-millionaire engineer friends in the Bay Area who walk around wearing Levis. That's the thing I love the most about the bay area. You never know how many millionaires are waiting behind you at the cafe.

I think Deni is some famous person. But that doesn't matter at all. She was an amazing vivacious woman. She was living. She reminded me to always do my dream - regardless of how scared I was. She said, she was a little afraid to wear the wonderful hat - that it took courage - I agree completely. Deni reminded me to have courage to be everything I want to be. And to not be afraid. Or do it despite my fear.

Speed Cubing, Aeon Flux and more

This weekend my friend and Swedish bodyguard, Lars, is coming down to compete in the US Speed Cube Championships (Speed Cube = Rubix Cube) at the California Institute of Technology. I'm going to tag along to experience the madness.

Lars once tried to teach me his specific style of solving the cube. He's invented/create his own style and you can learn it at his tutorial site. Apparently I'm going to be hanging with a celebrity. ;)

For info on the competition try this link and this link too.

Afterwards, I'm going to try to drag a tired bodyguard off to the opening of SENT - a cameraphone photograph opening with photos by Steve Diet Goedde. Years ago, when I had my Aeon Flux costume made, I was in contact with Steve about taking some photos. Our schedules never worked out to meet up, so it never happened, but I forgot until this moment that he lives in LA. It might be fun to actually get these photos done finally... although I'll have to work on my buffness a bit.

BM here I come

I just bought my Burning Man ticket. I'm a first year burner, but I don't feel like it. I've been on the fringe of BM for a long time. I was thinking BM would be fun to attend this year and then my friend, Jon, from the snowy mountain up north invited me to join his camp. It sounds totally great and I am very excited. Now I'll start collecting my camping gear, readying my toys. I think my didj is definitely coming, along with kites and costumes and other effluevescence.

offline in LA

My new place hasn't gotten it's DSL yet, so I'm an internet orphan for a while. I attempted to get on a wireless network in my neighborhood with no luck! :( I guess there isnt' another internet geek in my neighborhood. It's a bit scary to me that I'll be the wifi geek in my neighborhood, but that's ok. I can install network equipment and set up a wireless LAN and still make it to Diane's to buy a Brazilian cut bikini and make it to the beach.

Wifi network will be set up in my neighborhood early next week. I guess I'll start getting in with the wifi crowd....

favored reading

"I" die.

you. you do not exist. your ego has lied to you. it tells you that you are unique. it makes you want to control everything. it has turned you into a consumer-terrorist. your ego must die. don't hang onto it. let go of your body too. if you do not really exist. then you will never really die.

- from Adbusters July/August 2004

It's a good "reality" check, especially I've been feeling a little overwhelmed with the whole LA body/look vibe.

a perfect world has already existed

I was thinking, wouldn't it be a perfect world where the spiritually enlightened ones are in control and have the vast resources of the universe and the earth at their disposal? The moment I thought this, I also thought, yes, this has already happened and will happen again. I just happen to be living and experiencing a different regime in control this lifetime.

time and some other quotes

"The only reason for time is so that everything doesn't happen at once."
-- Albert Einstein

"Time is round and space is curved
Honey have you got the nerve
to be Queen Elvis?"
- Robyn Hitchcock

"You can't kill relationships
You watch them drown like sinking ships ....
around you."
- Robyn Hitchcock

noonday sun

My friend Scott is traveling around the world. Here's a snippet from his latest report. I've been reading about Scott's travels for months now, just as I myself have been changing. In this last report I noticed a touch of something new in his writing. This is a lifetime experience and he is having a blast. It's great to live not so much vicariously through him, but experience what he is experiencing from his point of view. I would have a different experience even if I was doing the exact same thing Scott is doing. And that's the delight of so many people - so many points of view. And by reading their travelogues, or web logs or minds you experience something from someone's point of view. It's an experience you wouldn't be able to have any other way.

"As we approached the village, the chickens scattered
and the cows moseyed out of our way (yes, a cow can
actually mosey, who knew), but the huge hogs basking
in the late afternoon sun, couldnt be bothered. So we
walked around them."

pippilotta

Rob and I have been talking about Pippi over on his errata site. It's great to find someone else who is so into Pippi. I think she is one amazing character.

When I was in high school theatre class, we had an exercise where we had to do a character study. Pick a character, put together the costume, write a monologue and find a couple classrooms to perform in. Of course I picked Pippi. I wired my braided pigtails up with coat wire. I dyed a pair of tights: one leg green the other orange. I found fabulously large men's patent leather dancing shoes that were very long. I did not have a monkey. That was the catch - I was looking for Mr. Neilson in Mr. Slaymaker's Chemistry class and Mr Bemis's AP English class. I jumped on their desks - walked around on the desks in the classroom (while class was in session) and generally acted out a dream for 10 minutes. It was lots of fun.

A couple other stories come to mind.

In this time of transition, as I am specifically redefining who I want to be. Why not take my favorite things about Pippi and make them me? The things like, she always lived alone in a big house with a monkey and a horse and treated them like normal people. She had a suitcase of gold coins, but she didn't spend a lot of money. She liked to surprise storeowners by trying to buy lots of candy and toys and then flashing those fabulous eyes and pulling out a couple gold coins saying innocently, will this be enough? and then laughing uproariously. Her two square friends, Tommy and Anika, who lived next door with parents and all the kids wish for some of the freedom and stability of the other. Pippi has a connection with her world. She paid attention. She didn't try to be something she wasn't - she was a little girl with a lot of spunk and imagination. She didn't take shit from adults and required them to pay her attention. It's not that I want to be the living Pippi - but I want to take the best things from my perception about her character and incorporate it into my own hero with a thousand faces.

The other story I was reminded of happened the first week I was in high school. The scene is debate class. Our teacher decides that since there is some announcement that the whole school has to hear that it will be delivered in person to every class on a certain day. The debaters will be giving this announcement. It's about 5 minutes max, but it's probably most of the freshmen's first experience in "public" speaking. Debate teacher decided that the freshmen get to deliver the notice to senior and junior classes. Talk about jumping into the fire with public speaking. Here I am, all new to high school and everything that that mean. I'm the insecure 14 year old checking out the scene and just trying to fit in - not wanting to stick out or draw attention to myself. I felt like I was going to die. But I didn't obviously. I made the announcement without any mistakes and proceeded to have several senior and junior friends later that day in the lunch room. That experience wiped away my inability to act based on my own fear reaction. I was afraid to make the announcement, but I did it anyway. So now, when I feel that fear reaction (or a shade of anxiety) I acknowledge it, but I don't let it stop me from action.

Noticing the programming

A fun time last night, but I'm reminded of the pre-programmed hard/soft-wired stuff in my body/brain. Eating, drinking, dancing, driving. I love listening to the music and go where it takes me. Pretend to be various roles. I am fully these personalities that come out. I was the jerk with the door guy doing his job. The somewhat drunk girl. Detachedly checking out the scene and people in the scene. Talking to guys, yet trying to appear unavailable. That is somewhat difficult being single and new and friendly and wanting to make connections, but not really in that way. Which causes me to ponder about relationships. I have to keep reminding myself that I don't want a relationship (although there's that one in the background - the third staircase). It's strange though, because, the part of a relationship role is one I've been in for a really long time. It's been a great role, because it has sheltered me from the sexual "onslaught" (whatever) with my unavailability. Now, I've got to create that for myself. And self-subterfuge exists. It's not about control - controlling or "weeding" out these hard and soft wired programming, it's about awareness. Being aware of the pre-programming and knowing what I want to do.

More than anything, I wish I had been more aware.

I'm in Love

I fell in love again today. It was with Silverlake. After taking in MOCA at the California Plaza; which totally reminded me of Yerba Buena - they even have performances, great landscaped with water and moss and granite and trees in the middle of downtown and even some wacked out contemporary art. It was Thursday free day at MOCA so I checked it out.

Afterwards I meandered towards Echo Park/Silverlake. I've been thinking about this area for a while. There's some history. 29 years ago I lived in Echo Park. Today was the first time I've explored that area as an adult and I absolutely feel in love with Silverlake. It really reminded me of the Berkeley Hills. The houses were great. There were tons of them for sale. Some parts are run down. Some are upper snooty. I like the eclectic mix. I liked that as I drove up Alvarado the billboards were in Spanish. I saw a Brazilian store. I like that. I know there will be good Mexican groceries in the neighborhood. I liked the twinkling of the sun off the blue blue water. I liked the big trees. I like the potential and I can really see myself living in that part of town. That is .... if I want to pretend that I am still in San Francisco (minus the natural northern air conditioning). That thought occurred to me as I drove back to the coast along sunset. Then again, I also fell in love with Playa del Rey. And the more I hang out here in Venice I love it here too. Am I just in love with everything LA? What about a discriminating taste? What about choice? Am I overwhelmed? I don't know. It seemed to me that San Francisco could be compared to Rio de Janeiro, while Los Angeles would be compared to Sao Paulo. Regardless, everything is going to work out exactly the way it's supposed to. I don't know where I'll end up. And Los Angeles, Venice even this house is another point on my line that is the life I currently experience.

We say goodbye and hello every second of the day. We say it with our exhale and inhale. We arrive at one place and depart another at every instant in time. And then the instant changes.

airplanes and adventure

I've been fascinated with airports all my life. They represent adventure. Because my mom was a flight attendant we traveled all over the world at the drop of a hat. Airports were always hubs of opportunity. I would look up at the departing flight TVs and see the destinations in alphabetical order. I knew, with my airline ID, that I could get on any flight if there was an open seat. I would stand in the international terminal in St Louis and see destinations of adventure: Barcelona, Paris, Cairo, Athens, London, San Francisco, Honolulu, Munich, Amsterdam with flights leaving in the next few hours. I would look at my open ticket and look in my bag and realize I didn't have my passport with me. I was planning only a domestic flight. I knew I could go to those places. They were not foreign. I was scared. At 14 I didn't have the guts/charge/irresponsibility to change my plans and jump on a plane to Rome at the last minute. I dreamt of doing this, every time I was in the airport, but I thought my parents would be worried when I didn't show up in San Diego or John Wayne or Kansas City. Thinking back, I wish I had done that at least once.

When I wasn't traveling I still loved airplanes and airports. I used to go out to the airport at night to watch the airplanes take off and land. The red and green and white lights. The blue lights on the ground. It was magical to me. If I couldn't travel, I could at least watch people traveling. I imagined the people on the airplanes. Wondered where they were going. If they were excited because they were leaving cold Iowa to go on vacation in California or Florida or the Caribbean. Or were they coming home to visit family after they moved away from college to places like San Francisco, New York, Boston, Houston.

Then the roles would swap and I'd be up on that airplane. It would be taking off. My body would be pressed against the seat. I would relax and feel the pressure increase, my delight increasing in measure until the ultimate climax and we were no longer earthbound. The cool release. The game I played with the clouds and sun and earth below. I would think of the my colleagues on the airplane. Wonder about their stories. The teenage girl who sat next to me by the window. Words overhead in SFO at the United International baggage check-in "Raj, I need a thousand dollars" and their accompanying stack of boxes and luggage with a couple women and several children silently waiting behind them. The couple on my left going to San Juan. Was it their honeymoon or their first vacation together? I looked out the window at the blackness of the ocean. I would be meeting my boyfriend in San Juan the next day. He would get off his boat at the crack of dawn and wake me up in my hotel room with kisses. I wondered about the people on the ground. Those box houses, many with turquoise pools that I could see on a clear day in my approach to LAX. Two weeks in a row, I pointed out the Hollywood sign in the Hills. First to a son and dad couple going to DisneyLand. The following week to a college girl and her boyfriend going to her film school interview at UCLA. Both were excited to see it from the air. I kept thinking, this is my town. This is my town.

In an airport, the mundane and everyday mix with the excitement of the unknown. It's what I wrote just a moment ago. It's a magical place of many opportunities. Of places to fly off to. You don't need an open ticket to go to places like business school or rock star or father of 3. It makes it easier. But you'll pay for it some way. You pay for it by making a choice. And once you are in one destination, you can always leave and go to another destination. The ticket is always open, until the destinations cease to exist.

Gmail invites

So I've got some Gmail invites. If you're a friend of mine and want a gmail email address, send an email to heathervescent at gmail dot com. Say something funny or interesting.

bistro solei and playa del rey

Playa del Rey is the first community just north of LAX. To the south, the airplanes take off over the Ocean. To the North is a wetlands reserve that is threatened by developers. To the east new developments like Playa Vista are popping up. There is a lot of controversy with the proposed LAX expansion. But I don't think it will really happen because just north of LAX windstorms (aka Tornados) occur with not so rare frequency.

Driving west Culver Blvd (which heading east on it will take you to Culver City and the Sony Pictures Soundstages) takes you to this amazing beach town. It's a classic southern California beach town. An Italian restaurant with lots of neon. A bar called the "Outlaws". A place called "The Shack" subtitle: So California, Colorado, Hawaii. Colorado?!!!! What surfer moved east to the Rockies I wonder? Across the street at the quasi flat iron corner is the brightly painted yellow and blue Bistro Solei. I've noticed this place every time I've turned the corner to head south along the beach.

Last night, I went there with my Aunt Mary Pat and her soon to be husband Steve. We didn't know what to expect and we showed up just before 9pm hoping they would still serve us. It's true we were the last ones to leave the restaurant but the place was completely spectacular. I had a filet mignon covered in a brandy wine cream sauce. It was one of the most interesting sauces on the menu and I had to try it. It was amazing. The filet was so tender I cut it with my butter knife. The sauce was impeccable. It was delightfully creamy with subtle flavors. The accompanying vegetables were delightful. Mary Pat opted for the fish and chips which were crispy and flavorful. And Steve had the Poulet Dijonese. All of us were blown away by the saucy goodness. Since Mary Pat and Steve were going to Hawaii the next day and it was basically Steve's bachelor party (with 2 women) we convinced our waitress to let us order desert. Crepes Martinique folds chocolate mousse inside a crepe covered with raspberry and rum sauces. Totally Yum! My brain starts enumerating the list of people I have to bring to the restaurant - starting with my mom - who introduced a picky petulant child to chocolate mousse crepes 25 years ago.

Playa del Rey is barely 10 minutes from LAX. It's a completely hidden gem in an amazing location. The beach was more or less empty yesterday when I pulled up to explore and watch the airplanes take off. It was the cloudy overcast JuneGloom in LA. I'm not really surprised. I'm intimate with the marine layer that rolls into SF all summer. It was an interesting trick of the infinite, watching huge jumbo jets, long necked airplanes and smaller aircraft propelling themselves into the sky followed by a rocketing blast of sound as they blend into the nothing of the marine cloudcover.

what a man

"Colonel Aureliano Buendia organized thirty-two armed uprisings and he lost them all. He had seventeen male children by seventeen different women and they were exterminated one after the other on a single night before the oldest one had reached the age of thirty-five. He survived fourteen attempts on his life, seventy-three ambushes, and a firing squad. He lived through a dose of strychnine in his coffee that was enough to kill a horse."
- One Hundred Years of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez

every road leads ....

"every road leads home" is what Amy said to me today as I was test driving her Saab. It's a great quote that I want to remember. And I also want to buy her car.

back home

The sun set on the last day of Spring. It's now a hot summer night. I'm back home. It's always a hot drive on 5 through the San Joaquin Valley. I see the blue of the aqueduct and dream to jump in. In my car I brought with me: Ms Salvia, a chest of drawers for my clothes and a bird's head in a velvet ring box among other things.

I was in SF for a few days longer than I originally planned - but then, I wasn't that surprised with house drama happened and other delightful distractions occurred. I saw some good movies, notably, Shakes the Clown and Napoleon Dynamite. Also saw Coffee and Cigarettes a few weeks ago. I'll write reviews of them in the next few days.

Being up north was somewhat discombobulated. I had no home. I stayed in my house - a jumbled mess with painting and carpeting and then finally finding its personality. I stayed in my old place (and x-boyfriend/roommate's place) in SF. And I stayed in a hotel near Union Square. It's neat to be able to get up and go and stay at any variety of places - the freedom is there. However at the same time it's somewhat ... new ... to not be rooted anywhere. It's a new feeling to be a visitor in your old town. An intimate visitor. As much as I love the bay area, the life I had there, my friends and lovers past and new, my home is south - and that's where I want to be. And here I am. Home again, home again.

this is scary close

How to make a heathervescent

Ingredients: 1 part pride 5 parts brilliance 3 parts leadership

Method: Blend at a low speed for 30 seconds. Add a little cocktail umbrella and a dash of fitness

Username:

Personality cocktail
From Go-Quiz.com

Thanks again for finding this Yoko.

It's been a busy week. I'm back here in SF - looking at that view - hi there sutro tower, the outer mission sprawl, the church. The sky is clear blue.

The house went on the market yesterday. The painters finished Wednesday and I had one evening to stage the house, clean it and generally make it look like a fabulous place. A place out of a dream - and it is. The house looks the best it has ever looked. The backyard is planted and gorgeous. I stand on the deck from the bedroom and look at the redwood trees, watch the sunset and feel the breeze. It's somewhat sad that I won't be living in this house anymore. But then again, I haven't lived there for 8 or 9 months. But that house represented to me the achievement of many of my dreams. Of home ownership in the Bay Area, where housing prices are not cheap. It was a beautiful house. A unique house. It was a small house. But it was compact. The house represented to me, that I was finally successful. And that I did it all alone. Well - not totally alone, because Clint was there too. But I did most of it. And to me that house represents success.

So I was successful. It's time for a new dream. A dream that holds it's castle in the south. There are many things in the north that have my attention - but my dream is south. And I can't wait to get back down to Venice and the warm moist air. A city with sandy loamy soil where my roots are already settling in. It's full of holes.

Yesterday there was a collection of flags on Venice Beach, today there are half-pipe rollerblade and bicycle competitions.

A women's razor promotion called Venus. I rode by and they were playing Venus by Banarama. This is a great song - especially the original version.

And here's this:

It is saturday so the beach was packed with people. I rode all to North Santa Monica and pulled out to attempt to read this patent submission. Needless to say I was not that successful.

I looked up at the waves and saw three black triangles humping parallel to the shore. It turned out to be a pod of dolphins. There were about 5 of them.

I didn't see any movie sets today, but yesterday they had lots of electricity cables a couple cranes and a hanging platform along with a large quantity of RVs and Trailers.

Oh and then there was the FOX thing. A whole parking lot was blocked off. All I could really see were the white tents, tables and green plants. There were three huge letters right on the edge of the beach. They were F O X. I really wanted to do some kind of joke or climb on top and pose or do something funny. But I was alone and had no accomplice. That reminded me that I wanted to get involved with the Cacophony Society again - and they are supposedly more active in LA than SF.

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." ~ Mark Twain

reading page 119 in sleeping in flame propelled my thoughts into a new thought dimension. Carroll didn't spell it out like this, but he wrote in some hooks that, like the midget, pushed me out the window. these thoughts are my own and I wasn't doing anything other than drinking coffee and breathing the Venice air.

These ideas
- there is a finite amount of time in which life exists (say 0-N)
- there are a finite number of vessels (anything that has "life" from a cicada to you reading this right now.
- reincarnation happens, but you don't always come back in the future. you can come back at any point in the finite timeness of life
- in fact, there really is no time. "Time" is what allows awareness to experience itself and evolve (i.e. learn)
- we are recycled constantly into the "past", "present", "future"
- this recycling within time, within vessels (bodies) happens constantly. It is a constant circle.
- Perhaps through the cycle, you are recycled into every single living thing that has, does and will ever exist.
- There is really no difference between you and that jerk who cut you off on the freeway today. One life you are the one being cut off, the next you are being cut off. and if there is no difference between you and that jerk between the millions and millions of years difference from switching bodies - what is the real different between you today?
- You could say that the myth of Heaven and Hell explains this in perfect symbolism.
- some people will experience all the forms and vessels of life.
- some will experience very few.
- there will be times when the "world", "the arena" are filled with many vessels
- and times when there are very few
- and they will evolve and mutate and create and destroy and everything you can possibly imagine and more

- And there is a way out or a way beyond the circle/cycle.
- But it doesn't really matter whether or not you care or even know about all this. Or if you get out or transcend it.

So you over there, reading this entry. Hello you. You're me. And I'm you, thinking and typing this right now.

Thinking all this, made me almost feel hopeless. Why bother almost came into mind. Why continue to exist if I'm "doomed" to be all these jerks or have the amazing opportunity to experience everything. To be a man, a woman, a mother, a killer, killed, an un-elected president, a dictator, an activist, a nomad and everything else. I've been all those things and I've been the opposite and I'm all those things and the opposite right now.

But no really, I'm just an almost divorced 30 year old woman with the ability to fascinate almost anyone. But then again, I'm also all of you too.

"Do not require a description of the countries towards which you sail. The description does not describe them to you nad tomorrow you arrive there and know them by inhabiting then."
- Emerson, Essay on the Oversoul

Today I start my writing schedule. Two book ideas that have been percolating for years. Cantos and Trade are their working titles. I want the stories to unfold and read like a cross between Italo Calvino, Bruce Chatwin and Jonathan Carroll. I hope it helps that I'm living in the house of a writer.

creating the dream

It's been a busy week. I'm back here in SF - looking at that view - hi there sutro tower, the outer mission sprawl, the church. The sky is clear blue.

The house went on the market yesterday. The painters finished Wednesday and I had one evening to stage the house, clean it and generally make it look like a fabulous place. A place out of a dream - and it is. The house looks the best it has ever looked. The backyard is planted and gorgeous. I stand on the deck from the bedroom and look at the redwood trees, watch the sunset and feel the breeze. It's somewhat sad that I won't be living in this house anymore. But then again, I haven't lived there for 8 or 9 months. But that house represented to me the achievement of many of my dreams. Of home ownership in the Bay Area, where housing prices are not cheap. It was a beautiful house. A unique house. It was a small house. But it was compact. The house represented to me, that I was finally successful. And that I did it all alone. Well - not totally alone, because Clint was there too. But I did most of it. And to me that house represents success.

So I was successful. It's time for a new dream. A dream that holds it's castle in the south. There are many things in the north that have my attention - but my dream is south. And I can't wait to get back down to Venice and the warm moist air. A city with sandy loamy soil where my roots are already settling in. It's full of holes.

what I saw at the beach

Yesterday there was a collection of flags on Venice Beach, today there are half-pipe rollerblade and bicycle competitions.

A women's razor promotion called Venus. I rode by and they were playing Venus by Banarama. This is a great song - especially the original version.

And here's this:

It is saturday so the beach was packed with people. I rode all to North Santa Monica and pulled out to attempt to read this patent submission. Needless to say I was not that successful.

I looked up at the waves and saw three black triangles humping parallel to the shore. It turned out to be a pod of dolphins. There were about 5 of them.

I didn't see any movie sets today, but yesterday they had lots of electricity cables a couple cranes and a hanging platform along with a large quantity of RVs and Trailers.

Oh and then there was the FOX thing. A whole parking lot was blocked off. All I could really see were the white tents, tables and green plants. There were three huge letters right on the edge of the beach. They were F O X. I really wanted to do some kind of joke or climb on top and pose or do something funny. But I was alone and had no accomplice. That reminded me that I wanted to get involved with the Cacophony Society again - and they are supposedly more active in LA than SF.

another reminder to take risks and do what you dream

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." ~ Mark Twain

the algorithm of the human race

reading page 119 in sleeping in flame propelled my thoughts into a new thought dimension. Carroll didn't spell it out like this, but he wrote in some hooks that, like the midget, pushed me out the window. these thoughts are my own and I wasn't doing anything other than drinking coffee and breathing the Venice air.

These ideas
- there is a finite amount of time in which life exists (say 0-N)
- there are a finite number of vessels (anything that has "life" from a cicada to you reading this right now.
- reincarnation happens, but you don't always come back in the future. you can come back at any point in the finite timeness of life
- in fact, there really is no time. "Time" is what allows awareness to experience itself and evolve (i.e. learn)
- we are recycled constantly into the "past", "present", "future"
- this recycling within time, within vessels (bodies) happens constantly. It is a constant circle.
- Perhaps through the cycle, you are recycled into every single living thing that has, does and will ever exist.
- There is really no difference between you and that jerk who cut you off on the freeway today. One life you are the one being cut off, the next you are being cut off. and if there is no difference between you and that jerk between the millions and millions of years difference from switching bodies - what is the real different between you today?
- You could say that the myth of Heaven and Hell explains this in perfect symbolism.
- some people will experience all the forms and vessels of life.
- some will experience very few.
- there will be times when the "world", "the arena" are filled with many vessels
- and times when there are very few
- and they will evolve and mutate and create and destroy and everything you can possibly imagine and more

- And there is a way out or a way beyond the circle/cycle.
- But it doesn't really matter whether or not you care or even know about all this. Or if you get out or transcend it.

So you over there, reading this entry. Hello you. You're me. And I'm you, thinking and typing this right now.

Thinking all this, made me almost feel hopeless. Why bother almost came into mind. Why continue to exist if I'm "doomed" to be all these jerks or have the amazing opportunity to experience everything. To be a man, a woman, a mother, a killer, killed, an un-elected president, a dictator, an activist, a nomad and everything else. I've been all those things and I've been the opposite and I'm all those things and the opposite right now.

But no really, I'm just an almost divorced 30 year old woman with the ability to fascinate almost anyone. But then again, I'm also all of you too.

morning quote

"Do not require a description of the countries towards which you sail. The description does not describe them to you nad tomorrow you arrive there and know them by inhabiting then."
- Emerson, Essay on the Oversoul

Today I start my writing schedule. Two book ideas that have been percolating for years. Cantos and Trade are their working titles. I want the stories to unfold and read like a cross between Italo Calvino, Bruce Chatwin and Jonathan Carroll. I hope it helps that I'm living in the house of a writer.