heathervescent

I'm the same damn person...

I was oh.... 13 years ago. I've been sifting through a bunch of old letter I wrote to a certain someone over the course of the past 13 years. Same damn stuff, slightly different handwriting. The signature is somewhat the same.

It makes me ponder, all this talk (type) of thinking I'm somewhat different, or my "worldview" has changed... but basically I am the same person. Same person I was when I was 17. or 18. Did I get stuck in that place? Did I never become an adult? Have I been faking it all along with a financial planner and big corporate job (well not anymore thank god) and 401k and mortgage and fuck, I'm just barely 30. It's not time for my mid-life crisis.

I'm surprised at what I find I said - and still rings true. I could care less for politics. They just doesn't interest me. (I know someone will get all outraged about how I should care about the war and greased pockets of our government - but truth be told - the whole world is like that - not just in politics, but in business, in communities, in cultures and religions. It's not news to me, and it seem just like a waste of my time to get all caught up in it.) Because when I die, will I care who was president or not? No, I don't think so. Yeah, sure, what one president's policy may hasten my demise, but so may riding a motorcycle. Death is coming and it doesn't really matter when it does. What matters is being aware that death is coming and taking advantage of all the other times that death does not arrive. (Think Monty Python meaning of life here.)

So back to myself - my favorite topic. The egotistical Heather. No wait, the self-observing, reflecting Heather. (Which is just some marketing speak about egotistical Heather.)

But seriously, Heather, (because I write this blog for me, like anyone else cares to hear about my blathering on about meself) what's up with this? What happened to all that self-observation and reflection crap that you just typed and have been trying to live for the past 10 years. Well, Heather (in response) I have been doing exactly that - living and learning. As my life has unfolded I am in a constant learning environment to be enlightened. To have my awareness enhanced. And you know heather, according to all the castaneda blather you read and practice, isn't that what this is all about? Taking your lifeforce and enhancing the awareness so that there is more awareness when death does take you like the Dinofelis, sweet and dreamy with it's jaw. Well, um, yeah, but, I want to know what it's all about NOW. I want to know what the RIGHT thing to do is. (Great sentence structure there.) But heather, come on, you know this as much as I do, that there is NO RIGHT thing to do. It's to do something. It's to get out and LIVE - to enhance that awareness, whether you do it on a motorcycle or out chopping wood and carrying water. But, uh, *stomps foot* I want to make the best of my time here and cram in as much as I can, I don't have time for mistakes. Well, think about it this way, the universe doesn't make mistakes, and people don't either. But, wait, that can't be true. What kind of freaky shit are you smoking to be having a conversation and typing it all up on a PUBLIC WEBSITE. Well, you see heather, the thing is, all you've had this evening is a cup of coffee and before that you had a new york steak. Remember you fried it up in the cast iron pan downstairs. Oh yeah. It's kind of fun writing like this, it's like the comic Cerebus. Yeah, it is.

Is your awareness enhanced now? Well, I guess so. I feel a little better and some slight pressure removed from making a MISTAKE or doing something WRONG.

But seriously, I am somewhat ... perplexed, disappointed, sad that I haven't really changed. Then again, in Chatwin's book, which I finished this afternoon, he wrote... (page 244)

All species must "jump" eventually, but some jump more readily than others. Elizabeth Vrba showed me graphs on which she had plotted the lineage of two sister clades of antelopes, the Alcephalini and Aepycerotini, both of which shared a common ancestor in the Miocene.
The Alcephalini, the family to which the wildebeeste and hartebeest belong have "specialised" teeth and stomachs for feeding in arid conditions, and have thrown up about forty species over the past six and a half million years. The impala, a member of the Aepycerotini, being a generalist with a capacity to thrive in a variety of climates has remained the same to this day.
Evolutionary change, she said, was once hailed as the hallmark of success. We now know better: the successful are the ones that last.

Thanks Bruce. But I'm not sure how I feel or think about all that.

true love

I used to believe in true love. That there was one person out there that would compliment me perfectly and visa versa. I was in search of that person and sure I would find him. That was a myth of course. A myth that was taught to me as a young girl. Most likely culled from Disney's version of fairy tales.

My first glimpse that there may not be true love was in Brazil. It was there I realized that I could get along with a variety of very different men. I didn't mold myself to fit their views of a woman (I blew them away being American and heathervescent), and I felt a lightness in not trying to fit them into some kind of perfect vision. I tried out this view and it worked well. Then I came back the US. I continued this experiment, but eventually fell back into the "one true love" model. It was a sweet. It was bittersweet. It could be a reality with lots of work. (I keep hearing Mick's voice drawling, "And all my dreams would come true" from Far Away Eyes.) And really, a myth is like a stereotype on an archetypical level.

So now, where am I? I'm not looking for love. I'm exploring. I'm exploring this world and myself in the world. So I have a choice of what I want to believe, instead of just believing in what I taught.

dreaming bruce chatwin

it's another sunny morning. I've been plugging through chatwin's australia. He's been holed up in Cullen for a week or so and is reviewing his moleskines written during his travels. I've been reading his thoughts and excerpts about aggression, travel, the hero path, war, walking. I know what is happening. What the days go like. Reviewing, thinking, writing. A stranger in a strange land. Similar, yet different enough to move the writer from the habitual point of view.

that's the good thing about traveling. and you don't even have to go to another country to get a shift like that.

I was in japantown yesterday. I walked around the small shops. Everything so particular, specific. The stationary shop, a shop with lots of metal tea pots. There was a feeling of time - I didn't feel the rush that I had in the mission (hustling). There was not a lot of space, but the space was used appropriately.

Cultures are different views of the world. I suppose that's no surprise or revelation, but it's a nice thing to think about and experience. It makes me reflect upon my personal culture, and gives me the choice to decide which parts I like and include myself. The work hard, play hard of Brazil, the heat. I want to cultivate the spaciousness of time. Time is a commodity in the US. But there are places where time doesn't really matter.

Ah, I've waxed somewhat philosophical now. I don't really want to go there this early. I'll write my other post, and then close up and finish the songlines.

I have a crunch on money mark

I get crushes on weird people. Not necessarily the people you'd expect someone to get a crush on. But I realized a while back that I was much more attracted to interesting looking people than traditionally beautiful ones. Take Money Mark. I don't know what it is, but I have a crunch on him. His aloof, laid-back latin-asian look. Then there is William DeFoe, what's up with that one? And the classic Steve Buscemi - upon whom I don't have a crush anymore, but I did for a while. Then there is creepy Crispin Glover - I've had a crunch on him since way before Charlie's Angels.

So, oh well. If Bruce Chatwin was still alive, I'd probably have a crunch on him too. I'm so enamored with his writing (it's how I think) and his travels (reminds me of my own, though I have not been to the many places he has) and his adventerous spirit (which I identify with).

I remember when I started reading the Viceroy of Ouida, and thinking, damn, this is how I want to write. I was planning on taking these months off from work to write some book ideas. One about Brazil in the chatwin style. But, I have merely spent this time thinking about myself, my life and what I want. Doing a mental walkabout. Checking on my frequent flyer status, I have enough to go to Australia and Hawaii. Do I dare?

A friend of mine is traveling around the world. I just got his update from Zanzibar. ZANZIBAR!!! Amazing. I am reminded of the dead flying ... at the market in Port Vila, Vanuatu. Of flying into the airport made of cinder bricks topped with corigated sheet metal. (I know, isn't my spelling horrible?!)

Adventure. I thirst for it. And at the same time, security. I guess that's why I'll have a financial planner managing my assets, as I go out into the wilderness. At least that's what I like to think I'd do. I may just end up in a condo in Santa Monica or Venice, driving around listening to the eagles. Well, I hope it doesn't come to that.

a new addiction

oh my god, I've become completely addicted to computer solitare again. It's just so... mindless.

Remember how I posted a quesiton a while back about things you do to get into an altered state? Well, computer solitare will do it. Be ware. Be aware.

a train of some thoughts

I've returned now to the Bay Area. On my desk, an empty coffee cup, a dozen red roses, and a view: sutro heights, a church, a water tower.

I was talking to a friend of mine about the differences between LA and SF. LA is known to be focused so much on image, looks, but because people know that they look for something deeper. They actively pursue "deep" thoughts, activities that feed their soul. In SF, everyone assumes they have that depth and don't need to cultivate it.

I was thinking about this and consumer culture. Consumerism teaches you to find fulfillment in buying something. That having this or that, you will be happy, satisfied. This isn't only applied to actual goods like cars, houses, etc. It's also applied to emotions, dream lives, what the world wants you to want. (Do you actually want it?) It's desirable to have a marriage, undesirable to have a divorce. Etc. apply your train of thought here.

Over the weekend, as I floated in the waters, it occurred to me that the phrase "I think, therefore I am" is completely damaging. This world, this life, your life, is not about thinking. The journey is the destination. Feeling your way through, not logicizing. If you knew where you would go, would you take the first step? What if you knew of all the "bad" things you would do. Would you take the first step? Would you stay at the starting line?

"...walk on part in the war, for a lead roll in a cage..."

I read a story once about a future world, where people lived in little boxes and were jacked into a dream world. (I just realized that this sounds very matrix-like.) And the "conflict" in the story is that this man wants to visit his mother, but finds out there is no infrastructure for him to physically visit her. That he can visit her through his dream box, but that there isn't even a door from his box to the outside world.

The fog is rolling in and sutro heights is hidden. There goes the water tower. Rising mobilicious chords. The church is a backdrop of white. I see a row of triangular topped boxes disappearing in the mist. Are you in one of those boxes? Wouldn't you rather get out?

Goodbye water tower.
Red roses against fog.
Wet blood on concrete.
Two black figures skirt up into the sky.
Church shrouded in fog.
It's a time to disappear.

a weekend with water

This past weekend I went northeast to Wilbur Hot Springs. The hot sulphur waters are relaxing, the countryside is beautiful, it’s very quiet. There are no phones or TVs. It's very quiet. It's a different kind of hotel. The Hotel is old, first built in 1865. It has a huge sweeping screened porch with tables and common rooms are big with tables, couches, musical instruments, a pool table and games. There is a library with National Geographic magazines from the 1950s!

The main attraction of the place is the hot springs. There are three soaking pools filled with stinky hot sulphur water. Pools are open all day and night. Friday night we were up in the middle of the night and spent a nice time soaking in the pools and hanging out in the library. I love the calmness of the dead of night.

On Saturday we hiked into the canyon on some trails. There are lots of fallen down buildings - old farmsteads and rusting mining equipment. There are various sulphur springs just oozing out of the ground. One spring has a huge obelisk build up around it, so that at one time, hot water from the geyser, spurted out. The geyser still erupts, but the cement structure is eroding away. I was lucky enough to be passing by when the geyser was erupting and I climbed on top to see why it wasn't coming out the top. It was pretty dangerous and exciting to be on top of this boiling hot erupting geyser. I didn't get burned from the water (only the sun and sulphur).

We hiked to the top of a ridge. This time cows were all over the place and we must have freaked them out because they were bellowing alarm cries. The sun was shining, a light wind was blowing, all was quiet for the electrical crack of overhead wires. We hiked along a salt creek looking for interesting bits of shard and found a couple of old graves from the mid 1850's. The earth had sunk into the graves, the old oak trees roots were bare. Walking back I took my shoes off and walked in the cold stream. I was reminded of another stream walk. Merritt and I were traveling in southern brazil and went to some park to look at waterfalls. The stream that fed them became very wide and shallow at one point, so we took our shoes off and walked down it. It was the wide flat part between two falls. The water that was running over our feet had just fallen 60 feet and was about to fall another 20 or so. Erosion. Change by constant pressure. I found out orchids flower only when they are stressed. Interesting... Do people change only when there is pressure?

Back to waxing Wilbur. Since the weather was still cool, the swimming pool was filled with warm sulphur mineral water. It was milder than the soaking pools and so relaxing. I spent most of my time balanced on two wooden blocks floating, suspended in the pool. It was exquisite. Floating suspended in a slippery green fluid. I'd get out of the pools all hot and steam off in the cool wind. It was a great weekend.

some dreams

This past week, I've been having people from the past show up in my dreams. It's given me to ponder - especially with the friend purging that's been going on. The who I am now is a projection of the person I was going to become. But the fixed memory of me in my "friends" mind, is different from who I have become. And of course you can throw in varied perceptions of who I currently am based on moral and other points of view.

Anyway, I'll be glad to close up loose ends up here in San Francisco, the most perfect city in the whole world, where all my dreams came true.

This weekend brings a trip to the hot springs up north. Wilbur Hot Springs. I love this place. No phones, TVs. You get to cook your own food. There is great hiking and of course the hot water. At night it's magical.

Waking Life

Earlier this week I saw the animated film Waking Life. I missed it when it came out on the big screen several years ago. It's a very good story. I really liked the animated versions of the characters, who are, of course, real people.

I was hanging out on Potrero Hill a few days ago with a friend and he warns me, as he often has, that the next 10-15 years will go by very fast. I'm glad I'm reminded, but I have also been very lucky to be aware in the moment of the moment. Like walking around the Sony sound stages with a friend of mine. It started out with him recruiting me away from AOL, then I was recruiting him away from Sony, and in the end we decided we would just have to work together at our own start-up. It was a scene, walking around these magical places, magical because it's in these big boxes that movies are made. Blue screen scenes were set up. Dreams became film in those boxes. And here we were, Ian and I, walking around these dream boxes, with our own dreams. It was dreaming awake. And even more monumental, was that we were both aware of our dreaming awake as we did it.

Ian just twisted my arm to meet him and some other folks in Hawaii next month at this conference I was doing a little bit of work with. It will be fun to hang out and talk shop.

All is running smoothly

LK and I rode up and over 92 to skyline through Kings something or other to Woodside, Alice's, La Honda, San Gregorio. Then I headed north up Highway 1 up through Half Moon Bay, Moss Beach to Pacifica. Sunny on skyline, foggy and cool on 1, sun peaking out in Pacifica. When I arrived at the gym in pacifica they were having the ironman competition. Where people of different weight categories do things like: pick up a truck tire and flip it over multiple times or pull a 2700 pound vehicle... men and women competed. The parking lot was packed, but I slipped in to do my phys therpy work out - low weights, major reps, some cardio, abs. The exercise is good for the bod and generally the mind, but it's not working on kicking the negativity and anger today. Neither did the bike ride, which is usually the cure for almost any woe. I guess I'll just be angry for a while.

Cleaning the garden

I'm getting more and more angry these days. This is such a strange thing to feel. But oh well. Gotta go with the emotional flow huh? It's part of the unraveling and saying good bye, cauterizing, pulling out major pieces that were bedrock like in a jenga game. It's part of pulling up bay area roots. Making it difficult to stay.

It occured to me earlier this week, that some people may think I am running away from the bay area because of what's going on in my life right now. (By moving to LA.) I though about this for a while, tried on the feeling. It doesn't fit. I'm not running away. Because there is nothing to run away from. There are only items to figure out - divide, split, feel through.

It's not my style anyway. I don't generally leave ends open and lose. Even when dealing with people who do, I've been able to close my part up. The past week has me thinking about cutting off dead limbs. Pruning. The branches were bare, but hope springs and I was waiting to see if they would sprout up again. Not this year. It's ok. They're being pruned.

As today is the first day of spring, I've been planting the seeds for the coming year. When you know what you plant, you have some idea of what will grow.

Pattern Recognition / Death

I finished Pattern Recognition by William Gibson. It took me 6 chapters to get into it, but once I got the bait, I was hooked. It's another excellent suggestion from one of my best friends, barbarino. I continue to be amazed with his taste and how he consistently suggests great content for my brain. Having Mike as a friend is a guilty pleasure. I'll miss him more than most when I leave the bay area.

I admit, I like the main character, Casey, a lot. I like her dislike for trademarks. I admit, I identify with that characteristic, though not to the level she goes to. It is a rare day when you see me wearing any kind of logo gear and if I am, it is most likely because I got it at a clothing swap. I don't like aligning myself with a certain look or brand, but I don't usually go to the point of obliterating any trademark.

I read a lot. Sometimes, if a book is especially good, I read the end of the book shortly after I've started it. Sometimes it is the last sentence, last paragraph. With pattern reco, it was the last page and a half. I like to know how it's going to end. I find that with most books, knowing the end doesn't matter. It peaks my interest in the characters more. How are they going to get from where they are now to that endpage position? The way the story unfolds is part of the pleasure of reading. The story is important too. So to me, knowing the end is one part of the equation. In algebra, you've got a place to start from, the end of the equation, and some parts in the middle. You find out the missing part by placing the other parts of the equation against (in juxtaposition) to other parts. It's the journey, not the destination.

We all know our final destination. It's death. Our death. Complete and utter obliteration from the world we have created, crafted and lived in. Complete obliteration of our personality as we have known, explored and enhanced. Knowing your end, that you are going to die, does it change anything you do today?

Unlike a book, where you can turn to the last page (say 356) and read the end and know it is the end of the book, death can come at 15, 32, 45 or 92. We don't know when our last page. Like the living story, each page could be the last one. The story doesn't have to have a conclusion, or it might. The journey is the destination. Whether it is a trip around the world or around the block is really of no matter, it's personal preference.

Lady Knight

Lady Knight is ready for the open road. Yesterday I took her in and got a full tune up. She'd been sitting in my garage for since last November. The weather has been so wonderful. It was killing me not being out on my bike. It was a small drama getting her started, but she did. It was a breath of fresh air to be riding in the beautiful open air. It was a short ride to the shop, but it reminded me of the many reasons I ride. The freedom, the fear, the connection with the sky above and pavement below. Death could present it's face at any corner, but to do so, must hang on tightly behind. It's another beautiful day. I'll take Lady Knight north this weekend and she how we fare.

fair weather friends

I've been really angry recently. Pissed in fact. If you know me, you know this is not a normal state. And this emotion has perplexed me the past few days.

I've been going through a lot of BIG changes in my life. Changes in world views, what I want, who I am, work, partner, etc. I've got a large social network. But how many of those people are my "friends"? And to what extent? I've been pondering about what makes a friend a friend. I have "friends" I have known for a long time. There is history, but no current connection. Conversation is boring, talk about the old days, when we had something in common. Talk about what we are currently doing, but it's just skin deep. Unfulfilling.

Then there are my "friends" who argue with me. Tell me that my point of view is wrong. They make judgments, take sides. I feel like they attempt to convince me of their point of view, while not understand my own. People are different and have different points of view. However this becomes a problem when people can't agree to disagree. So if you disagree on some major points, then what?

What about "friends" who say they'll be around but are not. They rarely respond to email, phone, trying to meet up takes weeks to coordinate and they is rescheduled. How many attempts before you give up? When is the point reached where the energy you give to a relationship does not come back?

What about all these bitches? Do I write them off? They are not here in my time of need and distress. (Yes, I am fully aware they have their own reason, but I always has my own reasons too.) They do not necessarily support me through my hard times. What now?

Certainly I have friends who are not these bitches. They are the ones I share my intimate thoughts, fears, desires, expectations, and obscure corners of my mind. There are very few of them.

So, why is it so hard, to realize, that people change. I myself have changed. And so have these people I have known for years. Perhaps they are thinking the same thing about moi. Things do not stay the same. People change, and as that change occurs, friendships dwindle and fade. Personal focus is on other things.

Still, knowing all this, doesn't make it sting or hurt any less. Or make my hard times any easier.

to my friends who live in the bay area

I know I live in the most amazing city in the world. I know it is crazy that I would even consider moving from this most colorful and fantastic area in all of the universe. And why of all places would I consider moving south, to the land of smog, consumer culture, jammed freeways, media, flake, flack, smooze, smaze, flash in the pan etc. etc. etc. blah blah yadda yadda blah. (No, we don't have any of that up here in Silicon Valley!!!!!)

Well my friends, don't worry. I won't be calling you up from the 405 or the 10 or the 5, the 15 or Sunset Blvd and jamber on about how great LA is. Nor will I complain and moan about leaving.

No city can compare to that of dear San Francisco. I'm not leaving because it lacks anything. I'm leaving because it's perfect. PERFECT.

Here's a party situation. What would you do? You've gone to a party. What do you do? Multiple selections are ok.
A. Show up late - just as the party is starting
B. Show up even later - arriving as the last guest is leaving
C. Show up before the party.
D. Show up on time.
E. Show up on "time". (California time = 30-45 min after "official" party start time)
F. Leave early
G. Leave after first person leaves.
H. Leave when the party is really rocking.
I. etc.... fill in yours here

I'll stop there. Add your selections in the comments.

I'm leaving when the party is perfect. And that perfection leaves the memory perfect in my mind. I don't have to embellish the perfection. It's there - captured for a living moment - and I'm completely aware of the perfect moment as it happens.

As now. As I say goodbye to all the places I love. In the coming days, many of my posts will be about the places in the bay area I love so dearly.

How often are you aware what is perfect? And that that "perfection" ends at every instant. Every moment. And then returns and is different kind of perfection.

all those airplanes = travel

so remember last friday, when I posted that I kept seeing all those airplanes in the sky - every time I looked up in the sky. i figured out the what the deal was with them. it was because i flew to hollywood yesterday. yet another signal from the universe that LA is the place for me.

If you're going to the mojave desert

I've become a bigger and bigger fan of the desert the past few years. A few years ago, I took a solo motorcycle trip to Joshua Tree from SF. It was my first long trip on my bike - a new bike (the nighthawk you see in the picture) and it was amazing. I rode through a lot of 100+ degree heat. But that was ok. I saw amazing scenery.

In the few years since then I have returned to the desert. Some of my favorites include

Amboy Crater
It's off the old Route 66. It's an old crater with cool lava flows and rock. It was used as a location shoot for many early Hollywood Sci Fi movies. Don't each lunch in the Amboy Diner though, go down the road to

Ludlow Coffee Shop
When I motorcycling it alone, I stopped here for lunch. I love the place. The waitresses feel like my grandmother, with home made pies, cookies, good sandwiches. Standard Farmers Brothers Coffee. I love remembering this conversation:
The waitress: Are you on that bike alone?
Me: Yeah
Waitress: Isn't that scary?
Me: Not really. It's great being out in the air.
Waitress: Do you know martial arts.
Me: Actually I do.
Waitress: Well the cooks in the kitchen thought you did.
Me: Chuckling.

Needles - the wagon wheel
When I'm hung over and dehydrated from spending too much time in the desert (and unsoberly drinking way too much whisky) I eat at the wagon wheel, just inside California and the Nevada border. They have an amazing breakfast special. Pancakes, bacon/sausage and 2 eggs for something like 2.99 or 3.99. A truckers heaven. (And I think they even have a smoking section???)

Lone Pine
It's up north on 395. A very cool frontier town. I think it was used in Hollywood films too. There is an old time classic photoshop (where you get black and white photos in old time clothes) there. I've always wanted to do this, but I've never passed through when it's been open and I've been clean.

Kramers Corner or Junction
There's a cafe at this junction, which leads north into the Death Valley, east into Baker, south into the desert communities past LA and west to Mojave and Tehachapi. It's a cross roads of sorts. A dusty intersection of two two lane highways meeting. There's adventure in any direction.

OK. that's it for now. I'm going to spend the morning getting my bike started and see about spinning it around the bay. I've gots to be saying goodbye to all these roads my tires have kissed.

Not much but the weather

Not much news these past few days. The weather here in the Bay has been gorgeous. Fabulous SoCal weather. I know it is here to tempt me south sooner. And it may well work. I've been working my SoCal contacts and sending out some resumes. It's much easier for me mentally now that I've decided to move south. I had all this apprehension with the jobs that were coming up for me in Sillicon Valley. I'd interview, they'd love me, and I'd be like, ah, I'm not so sure.... Now, I know it's because the jobs were in the wrong town.

Google tells me the original name of Los Angeles is "El Pueblo de Nuestra Senora la Reina de los Angeles del Rio de Porciuncula". I was pondering (as driving down 280 last week) why Los Angeles didn't have a San or Santa in the name. You've got San Diego, San Juan Capistrano, Santa Barbara, San Jose, San Francisco, etc. etc. I'm moving from a saint to a queen.

airplanes

I've been driving around this morning and practically every time I've looked into the sky, I've seen an airplane or helicopter. What's up with that? I don't think there are more machines in the sky today, it's just that I'm noticing them.

Compressed Cold and Altered States

I'm having physical therapy for a repetitive stress injury I got when working at AOL. Some days are good, others are bad. I've never been one for taking drugs - ibuprofen, etc. But I pop those little white pills practically daily. I've been getting phys there for many months now, with varied improvement. It took a lot of time to have the injury, so I guess it takes the same or more time to retrain my body.

Physical Therapists are modern day torture artists. Don't take that the wrong way - that's in a good way. They have (and use) all these interesting devices. I've been put in this brace that stretches my neck (and gives me a pounding headache later in the evening), have electric fatigue for my muscles and the other day was in this new device.... some kind of cold compressor. Of course there is soft tissue manipulation (ART or massage), acupuncture, strength building exercises and stretches.

As I have these things done to my body and put into these machines, something happens to my mind. It's not like I go to sleep - I'm completely aware of what my body is doing (or rather, what is being done to my body), but I go someplace else - into some altered state.

I remember when I was in College and various friends of mine were experimenting with altered states. I never saw the big deal with drugs, because I found myself in "altered" states all the time, without the "help" of drugs.

It's interesting to me, as my body is physically manipulated - space added between my vertebras, muscles stretched, mind relaxed, that I find myself in "altered" states. States of profound relaxation, different worlds assembled. These states and experiences can be had by anyone. It seems to me the barrage of crap from this modern world, makes these states inaccessible to many of us.

What do you do to find yourself in an altered state?

LA Stories - The Museum of Jurassic technology

When I get to LA for any amount of time, I always like to stop by the Museum of Jurassic Technology. It's on Venice Blvd in Cluver City between Roberts/on and Overland. It's like entering a different world. Usually the LA weather is sunny, mild, beautiful, typical Southern California weather. You open this metal door - you're not even sure if it's the door to the museum, and upon entering you step into another world. The lights are dark, there are sound emanating from the nether regions of the museum. It's dark. Did I mention that the lights are low? It's cool. A complete and utter difference from the sunny California weather outside.

The museum is like a maze that has no exit. It's not about following a path through to some realization, it's about the experience. My awareness always shifts in the MJT. And that's why I go there. I wind my way past the coyote with the man filmly superimposed upon it's brain making barking sounds, past the kirtchner globes, the viewing alcove with the 3D glasses into the room with glass cases with interesting metal glasses like structures attached to the glass cases. The lenses in the glasses are juxtaposed against each other. Looking into the glass cases without using the attached glasses, you see a panarama - the caves of egypt or some flowers. Looking through the glasses you see people, flames, the hand of god, creatures alighting on flowers, or coffins, or in caves. The images are etheral and only seen through the attached glasses. In the center of this room is a circular item, with bells that at an interval circles one way and then another. The consistant sound of the circulating bell and looking at the panarama with their etherial companions is breathtaking.

MJT also has decomposing dice. You'll make your way through the hall and find yourself in a room that step up into X-rays of flowers. These pieces also have 3D glasses to view the X-rays. The experience is amazing. Imagine in 3D, in etheral X-ray vision, a cala lilly, a rose with an aphid, an orchid. The room is lit darkly and the cool blue of the x-ray images is well... etheral.

These exhibits are two of my favorites. There are others that are wonderful. Trailer parks of LA. Foz do Iguacu. Tiny sculputures that fit inside the eye of a needle!

This time I found the tea room upstairs open. There was a samovar steaming away. I had a cup of tea in the beautiful room while I waited for the film room to clear. The viewing room is also new. It's a small theatre that was built to show a documentary film on a Russian master. In another post, I'll tell the story of the girl with red sails.

If you're in the LA area, I highly suggest going to the Museum of Jurassic Technology. It's an amazing place that may take you into another world of your own. It's unlike any museum I've been too... with the exception of the Museum of Lost Wonder.

my new town - LA

I realize that I've always wanted to live in Southern California. I'm a SoCal native, although I've never spent a full year there after age 3. Each year I have renewed myself with time in LA. Some people say the city is dead, full of stunted trees. Perhaps to them.

The ocean is strong there. Much stronger than in Northern California, where the redwoods grow. Don't get me wrong. I absolutely love the Bay Area, especially Berkeley. It's in Berkeley, where all my dreams came true. The thing is, there is no happily ever after. At least that's what I'm realizing.

My trips to SoCal the last 5 years have been a slow familiarization. I know the highways well - the 5, the 405, the 110, the 15, the 10, Ocean Street in Santa Monica, the strand, Highway 1, 87, 84.... I've traveled these roads a lot recently, not to mention Sepulvada, Santa Monica Blvd, Washington Street, La Cienga, Venice Blvd.... I'm not tied to any one neighborhood. I like the beach communities of Santa Monica and Manhattan Beach. But I also like the desert - out past Riverside, Ontario, Palm Desert, Joshua Tree, 20 Palms, Baker, Barstow, Ludlow, Needles.

Both desert and ocean pull me south. I have very little tying me to San Francisco these days. So I'll go south, and see what I bring myself. More change I'm sure.

Effervescing waves

I was standing on the Manhattan Beach pier last Friday morning watching the waves. I saw how the waves swallowed up the air as they tumbled towards the beach, and the air in escaping effervesces the water. I was thinking about my name - heathervescent. And how I effervesce. Bringing air into my body, changing it into energy, making things out of it, saliva, energy, ideas, these typed words.

I hold the image of the air effervescing in the ocean. The patterns are so beautiful. I'll keep them in my mind.

No surprise here

I swear I didn't lie (well, I could be a bigger soccer fan).

You're Brazil!
You're athletic, charming, and probably a good dancer.  Unfortunatley, you don't really mind chopping down the rain forest, and you probably consider homeless people expendable in certain circumstances.  Of course, your personality is so diverse that it's hard to track down exactly what you're like.  You definitely like Pele, the World Cup, and shouting "gooooal" at the top of your lungs.
Take the Country Quiz at the Blue Pyramid

Eyes without a face

I've got that Billy Idol song stuck in my head and it's because I saw the classic french horror film by the same title last night at the Castro. Made in the late 50's, it's considered an "elegant" horror hilm. It's pretty gross in some ways, and in others boring. The final scene where the waif mask walks off into the dark forest surrounded by fluttering doves is quite strange. What was the director trying to say with this scene? Tying up loose ends?

What I noticed by far is that movies from earlier times have a lot more silence in them. I like that. Current movies (like 50 first dates, which I saw Sunday) have nonstop action, music, panorama, sex scenes, jokes, suspense, suspense music etc. etc. Rarely is there silence in the movies. That reflects the lack of silence we have in our culture. Traffic, television, the coffee maker, the gentle hum of the sharper image ionic breeze, my laptop, cell phones ringing, noisy etc.

That's why I like to get out into the desert. It's quiet there. A different kind of quiet.

McDonalds in Pasa Robles

This is a crazy Mcdonalds in pasa robles. It has huge neon arches on both sides of the building. There is also this strange little guy - not Ronald McDonald. I saw the McD sign, but other than that, I had no idea it was a McD. I had to take a picture. It's kind of hard to see though. Cameraphone technology for ya.

The Willow Ranch in Buttonwillow

This is the best place to get a steak off Interstate 5. It's at the Buttonwillow/Bakersfield/Mojave exit. Usually I stop here for dinner as I head down into the eastern Mojave ranges for camping and BLM exploring. Skip the corn and beans. Amazingly enough they have Green Tea. And there is a Starbucks (argh, yes I know) across the street for the real espresso kick after 4 days of Farmer Brothers. (My preference is Peets, not only because I am a stockholder, but also I love the creamy goodness of their froth, but after wearing 4 day old jeans, I become less picky.)

Photo coming soon of my other favorite desert place - the Wagon Wheel in Needles!

Me via Cameraphone

This is the first photo I uploaded from my cameraphone. It's an ok likeness of moi.

Off to LA la land

I'm heading to LA to take a class in Culver City thurs night. I'm trying to get my webloging stuff going so I can blog from there... just got the cameraphone activated. Still some difficulties... Check out my yafro site for uploaded photos.

Dream Life

And while I'm on the subject of dream jobs, I often think about how my job fits into my life. And then I wonder - do I have the life I really want? And inevitably I ask myself ....

What's my dream life?

How do I see myself living? Who do I see myself as? Who do I want to become?

I've been thinking about these questions a lot the past few months. Why don't you think about them too. I mean, what have you got to lose. It's blustery rainy outside, I can't even see the sutro tower. It's not even inviting enough for me to pop down to Cafe Claddach to get one of the best mocha's in SF (especially on the weekends).

So, think about what kind of life you want to live.
Think about the person you want to become.
And then start living today as the person you want to become.
(What would the person you want to become do?)

What's YOUR dream job?

Do you know what your dream job is? If you don't, how will you know when you find it. Write up your dream job today and start living your dream.

What's my dream job?

It seems my professional skills are in high demand. I've gotten a slew of calls this week. Why is it companies are hesitant to hire someone part-time? Taking a job is like getting a new boyfriend - except you don't have as much wiggle room with the new job. It's almost more difficult to find the perfect job because you'll spend a LOT of time at it, with people you barely know. It's amazing that anything gets done in business with people's personalities, egos and objectives... let alone those that the company has.

In my few months of time off, I've been redefining my dream job. I've simplified it to an elevator pitch. Here's the current description:

- Working with/for super smart people
- Working on a fabulous product (I'm a product manager)
- Working with people that are fun and down to earth
- Working sustainably (part-time / flex-time as needed / not a 40+ hour work week)

Plaxo has a pretty good write up of characteristics, so I'll steal it from their site (thanks Rikk)
1. are extremely intelligent and analytical
2. think and act for themselves
3. have courage & experience to solve problems
4. do whatever it takes to be successful
5. find ways to make mundane tasks important
6. understand & love very fast & scalable systems
7. hate s/w & system bloat -- love lean & mean
8. prefer small teams over large, complicated orgs
9. enjoy and are good at working w/ smart people
10. can laugh at themselves

So universe out there - where's my dream job for 2004? I'll be out there looking for you - inside corporate HR departments, on job posting websites, on Craigslist (thanks Craig) and through my friends and professional colleagues.

Who is the evil one?

Yesterday I was driving across the Bay Bridge and I saw a black pickup with a Virginia license plate that said "EVIL ONE". I started to get excited because I have seen the same pick up/plate in VIRGINIA on my trips to AOL. It was probably along 28 near the Dulles airport. I had my camera phone with me and so I snapped a photo. I've yet to upload it (soon).

But it's that crazy fun!

I also remember seeing a license plate in the AOL parking garage that said "666" or something like that.

Wow - in Virginia. I thought all the shockers were in the Bay Area. I sure am wrong.

Here's an article about the evil one vanity plate.

Who is Marisa Monte?

Marisa Monte is a fabulous brazilian singer. She is contemporary. She is AMAZING!

When I returned to the US in winter of 1995, I was so disgusted to be back in the US. I had left the place of passion. The place I loved more than any other place I had known. I had armagura na boca totalmente. My feet were in snow, when they ached sand.

But I also had Marisa Monte's Rose and Charcoal CD. That kept up my saudade. Si eu nao tenho meu amor, eu tenho minha dor. (If I don't have my love, I have my pain.)

Marisa has released more albums since 1995. Just search Amazon (click the links in my sidebar or go to Amoeba). But none of her recent albums really hit me in the chest like Rose and Charcoal - until I heard Tribalistas.

Marisa has been collaborating with Carlinhos Brown and Arnaldo Antunes on most of her albums. On Tribalistas they finally all share equal billing. This is one of the most amazing CDs I own. It's partly because of the timing - of things happening in my life and this CD.

The catchy hit song (a la Sly and the Family Stone, It's a Family Affair) is - Ja Sei Namorar. Ja sei beijar de lingua, Agora, so me resta sonhar. (I already know how to love., I already know how to tongue kiss, Now all I have left to do is dream. / Eu so de ninguem, Eu so de todo mundo, E todo mundo me quer bem, ... e todo mundo e meu tambem (I am no one's, I belong to everyone, and everyone is fond of me, .... and everyon is mine too)

I'd be having a rough day and driving around in the sunny mission or across the bay bridge and I'd listen to this CD as loud as I could and get tears stuck in my throat. Carnavalia, Passe em Casa, La de Longe - amazing songs.

Go out by these CDs. If you like Brazilian music, (or even if not) prepare to be BLOWN AWAY.

I love what I do

I make dreams real.

It's what I do. I'm a product developer. I don't build the product. I CREATE it. I have the special ability to take a dream - a wisp of an idea - something in my (or your) mind, and bring it into this collective world we inhabit. I take skeleton ideas and add fleshy requirements, skinny limitations, sensory inputs.

I'm a product shaman. A marketing magician. And I can work for you.

I make my dreams real. And I can help you make your dreams real too.

Um pedaco de pao

I've been listening to Brazilian music for the past few days. Inside the confines of objects - my house, my car, my mind. I travel to memories of Brazil. The beaches in Rio - Ipanema, Leblon, Copacabana. When I think of Copacabana a mix of memories. Myself sitting on the sidewalk getting picked up by a Brazilian at least 20 years my senior, Ann and Willie's stories of sleeping on the beach during the day and out all night long, Lars watching the prostitutes come out at dusk from our apartment.

Always on the day I leave the country, a last dash onto the beach into the brazilian ocean. Atlantico. To write my name in the sand to always return.

There are the other memories. The beaches in Fortaleza. All the people I met. The redwood forest mixed with tree ferns. The 48 hour bus ride from Foz do Iguacu. The moon rise at Jericoacoara. The drama of brazilian boyfriends. Suco de acerola e graviola. Muitas cervejas antes de almocar. Marisa Monte.

Brazil is a hub that connects much of my soul to others. It's a place like no other. It resides not only in the southern hemisphere, but beyond - in memories, passions, dreams, despair. My return to Iowa after living in Brazil was a blow unlike anyother. Leaving the hot vibrant Brazilian summer to return in time for Christmas snow and 90 degree below weather. My Brazilian tan hidden under layers of long underwear, sweaters and coats.

I was at Foz de Iguacu with my brother. We swam in the water falls. It was my second visit to those waterfalls. At my first visit I wanted to throw my body off the rocks into the crashing powerful water. It was the most beautiful and powerful place I had ever been. I could not imagine continue living. Somehow, some part of my will, pull me away from the water crashing over the rock and got me on that bus to Belo Horizante, where I went to the heart of pao de queijo e cafezinho.

I look outside my window. I see the twin peaks tower. I can superimpose my memory of Pao de Asucar on it. And in front of me where the outer mission sprawls, I see the wavy lines of the copacabana sidewalk and the slight waves lapping. I see the barracas and know the waiters before are waiting with cafe con leite (sem leite for Clint).

I'll put on my bikini and some shorts and walk over to Ipanema. Rent a chair on the beach and start reading Pattern Recogonition - the most recent Barbarino borrowed book.

Yes, I think I'll do that today.

Le Orange

When I was at the blogger dinner I met Mary who is into orange as much as me. Cool. We were talking about how great the Italians do orange and I was saying that it would be great to have orange italian shoes and boom - she has some. Oh my god. She's so cool. Someone else who is totally into Orange too. It's too bad I'm getting more and more into red these days....

Bloggers Unite

Wednesday night I went dinner with the blogger illuminati. I'm new to this blogging thing (and addicted to it too) and it was great to speak to so many knowledgable people. JD, whom I met at the conference did a great job collecting names and blogs, so I'll just post to his excellent description.

Morning Coffee-Chocolate

I am addicted to this great morning drink. Try it. (NOTE: I adjusted quantities when I actually measured this morning.)

1 cup water
1 cup coffee (or use water if you just want chocolate)
6 heaping teaspoons (not a measuring spoon, just your small spoon in the drawer) or UNSWEETENED chocolate powder (like Droste - the richer the better, but Hershey's baking chocolate will work).
3 heaping spoonfuls of honey
Vanilla to taste.
Half/half, cream or milk product of choice

Throw it all into a pot on the stove. Wisk with a wire wisk until frothy. Add the drop of vanilla at the end. Pour into your cup and add your milk product of choice. You may want to adjust the chocolate and honey levels to your taste.

For those who are used to milky, frothy chocolate drinks this may seem a little weak. But I like it because it is fast, chocolatey and not too thick. It's an original de Carson!

Blog Maniac

Up in the morning. Drinking the coffee-chocolate and updating the blog. I've been playing with the features of Typepad. Several of my friends have blogs on various systems - including MV on their own servers. I'm kind of thinking about doing that - but it's so easy to use typepad. I used to do HTML coding and soft SW Web Engineering work to "prove" that I am tech savvy enough. Well I understand the code and writing it - enough to get into serious discussion with super smart engineers (all you iAmaze folks ;) ). But frankly, there are other things I'd rather do than install code to my web servers - like for example, ride my motorcycle on this beautiful day. Actually I have to get it started first. Argh.

Today I've made some changes to my blog. I've added a Friends on the Web list. I started by adding a couple friends - and then boom - it exploded. If you're a friend and want me to add you to my list, send me your URL.

I got a cameraphone yesterday, so I plan to play with it a lot more. Gotta activate it today for this blogging dinner tonight. Photo, audio and media blogging beware. Heather will soon enter that realm. All for now.

Unraveling

What do you want?

It's a question we always ask ourselves. But do we know? Last year I got what I wanted. I achieved all the goals I had set out to accomplish - well more or less. Before I was 30. I accomplished the goals and now what? Am I satisfied with the accomplishment? For a while yes, but that while ran out. And other interests came to the forefront.

So now, what do I want? That's what I've been figuring out. The last few months have been a reconfiguring of Heather. Check off amazing marriage with an amazing person, the half million house in Berkeley, keeping it real in the face of a highly political corporate environment, making huge strides in personal and spiritual development. All that's left it to keep on building upon these foundations. Well, what I want isn't necessarily built upon those foundations. They are not just foundations, they are edifices in their own right, and some that many people never build. Mine live in past. In my memory. I am not tearing down the edifices - that would take far too much work, besides I made them all with the core of my strength. What I build cannot be destroyed so easily. But, I can unravel myself from them. And in doing so, I must tie up lose ends. I am unraveling. I am leaving who I am, yet pulling out every bit of myself from these edifices. It is the test - can they stand without the heathervescenthread? My thread is there, but it is no longer me.

The thread is spinning into some new style - to be woven into a new life - to create new edifices - which one day I will unravel again from. The additional awareness this time, is that as I create these new edifices and make my dreams real, I have the utter knowledge that I will again extract myself from what I build. The cage could be bigger, but I will grow, the cage could be modifable, but I will change in ways the cage may not. And then there is always the cage we all have: our human form. And eventually we break free of that cage and unravel ourselves from this life. Knowing all this, I put every effort into unraveling myself from my realized dreams of the past and manifesting my dreams of the future. This is work done in the present. Done every day. In every interaction.

Furniture shopping and RED

I'm not usually into shopping, however a couple times a year I get inspired. I've recently really gotten into the color red. It's been a gradual progression from my fixation on bright orange the past 4 years (from Brown and then Navy with Grey and Black thrown in for good measure). But red, what a vibrant living color. The color of our blood. Lips, strawberries, pink flesh.

It's a color I shied away from for a long time for various reasons. So here I am now, exploring the color Red.

Since I have been back from the desert, I've been looking at furniture. A red chair, red lamp, red pillows, looking at a red couch. Red lightbulbs. It's becoming very warm in here and I really like it. I'm going to be into this red color for a while.

Joshua Tree, Joshua Tree

I'm in need of a coffee boost after driving most of the day through the desert. I'm in Joshua Tree right now. I really wish I had one of those cameraphones so I could take photos and upload them. As well as sound clips. I have seen and learned some amazing things today.

I'm driving down the 10 - east - I'm going to enter Joshua Tree through the south. I'm buzzing along, listening to Jameriquoi and all of a sudden I notice a silver mercedes tracking me on the left. I look over and it is this guy checking me out. He tracks me for a while, until I exit for the first JH exit - not what I planned to do, but what the hell. I detour to Desert Hot Springs where I stop in a strange little thrift store called Gypsy. The woman at the counter, a huge ministry fan, tells me about the William Burroughs theme Hotel, called The Beat, in town. I leave to try to find it, with no luck. Instead I have the opportunity to drive through Windmill country.

Have you ever seen the windmills they use for energy? Well today I drove up close to them and they are really big! Very cool to see.

Finally, I get into Joshua Tree. The southern part of the park could be considered borning next to the northern parts, but still I enjoyed spacing out and looking at the scenery.

Then, it's the big rocks, and Joshua Trees. I was getting tired, so I stopped and took a quick catnap on some rocks. It's about 3:30 and my nap was short in human time, but other things happened while I rested on those rocks. Dreams beyond dreams.

Cutting the curves of the pavement, I drive out of the park and am greeted by one of Mr Horns, horns. Over Christmas, I went camping with Carson in the Mojave. We didn't really prepare that much for the trip and were rained on, it was cold and generally not that fun of a time. As we were leaving the BLM land on Christmas Day, we both saw this tall horned jaunty stanced character in the road shadows. The shadows were flat, but the character was dimensional (maybe not of human dimension????) So, this long slender stick catches my eye as I'm leaving the park, and I'm reminded of the character. So I stop and collect it. Shortly afterwards, I noticed a coyote along the road. I stopped to watch and saw a second coyote carrying some carion in it's mouth.

And now I'm here. In the Beatnik Cafe in Joshua Tree. Beatnik link: http://www.jtbeat.com/

Thanks Beatnik cafe for the mocha warm-up and a chance to update my weblog. I can tell that I'm going to get totally addicted. I'm also going to order a cameraphone as soon as I'm back in SF - which if I fly like the Raven I am, will be in the wee hours of tonight.

Real Estate opportunities

I woke up to the sound of crows cawing this morning. The sun was bright. It was in contrast with the beautiful cool moon of last night. It's been great traveling. I love being on the road.

I've been spending the morning with my Aunt talking Real Estate. There are so many opportunities, it's amazing. I've been thinking about entering the real estate market for a while (as an agent, I'm already an owner). So as I spend time driving today, I'll think about it.

On the road again

For the past few days I've been touring southern california. We're not strangers to each other, as I travel most frequently here. This trip has been a couple days in Anaheim for a conference (but not Disneyland) and I stayed at one of my favorite hotels - The Alpine Inn. The rooms are nothing special. I am drawn to the fake snow that is always on the roof and eaves of it. It's totally Disneyland kitsch from way back way back.

After being enlightened, it's further south to visit family. I was driving around Oceanside, a town I have visited for over 20 years. This past trip I was meandering parts of town I had never seen or explored. I caught a great sunset a the beach. I've been going to this beach since I was... 7 I think. I watched the waves and walked in the sand and saw the golden globe that gives us life sink into the blue. There was a family having a picnic with a fire. I was jealous because I have always wanted to have a beach fire out there and never have. I decided that next time I visit, I will do a beach picnic with a fire into the night. The sky turned golden orange and then deeper as time passed. The palm trees were etched in shades of night.

Today I drove up the 15 - inland. I saw the exit for 395. It reminded me of the time I spent most of my day driving up 395 from Four Corners Junction, just outside of Barstow, on my motorcycle. What a hot, dusty, windy road. Beautiful and exhilirating.

I love the rocky landscape. Large hills (are they considered mountains?) filled with scrub and boulders. I am reminded of the Mojave. The rock piles of Joshua Tree. I'm headed east before north tomorrow. I can feel the pull of the desert. I am so close. I keep to 15 and shy from 215 and traffic. I see the river with it's eddies and swirls and a stand of black barked trees. I wonder how the landscape will look when the water dries up. I enter horse country.

Tomorrow, I'm planning on spending a lot of time in the car. I want to make "good time" and reach San Francisco tomorrow night. I don't know if I will. The desert calls so strongly that I will detour to Joshua Tree. I'll probably do the south entrance and then jump on up to Joshua Tree and skirt along Lucerne Valley. I know these roads and love them. The car will be screaming to go into 4wd - but I didn't plan off roading this trip. Well, lack of planning didn't stop me last time.

I'll get into the desert, and then see what happens.

LinkedIN and other web communities

My friend Eric Ly has been working for this company, LinkedIN. It's another one of these business networking sites. I've been a member of it for a while, but have really gone crazy in the past few days. It's been great finding lots of friends who are already on it.

I'm also a member of Ryze, Friendster, orkut, LinkedIn and Yafro. Click the links to see my pages on each of those sites.

Account Linking for Instant Messaging is Live

So, this product that I worked on at AOL for years (yes years) final launched today. It's called Account Linking or Screen Name Linking. I left AOL back in November of my own accord, however it's because of me that this product got built. It was a big challenge, exciting and the reward is that it is launched now. Read the product review article here. Download the beta on the AIM.com website here.

Thanks and props to my old teams at AOL: Jamie, Barbara, Mike, Chris, David, Alexis and those not mentioned here. You guys rock and I wish I was back in Dulles so we could grab a beer at Old Dominion or dinner at Sweetwater. Soon though.

Driving around

It's been a day of driving around. I was in the south bay for a job interview. There are some interesting opportunities out there. The right one will turn up and I'm not worried about taking my time.

It was great to be back on 280 driving in the sun, listening to music and speeding. It's funny to remember that I used to spend more than 2 hours a day in the car driving. These days, I spend more than 2 hours at the gym.

Met up with my pal Mike Barbarino and we exchanged more books. Expiration Date for Marriage of Sticks. Lunch at Cafe Barrone. It's a favorite.

A sea of fog

My friend Genna took this photo. I like it a lot.

Hello there

This is my first blog post using movable type. I've been wanting to start a weblog for a while now.

It's an overcast day in San Francisco and I'm about to go to a yoga class I find very interesting. It's taught by Baxter Bell at Berkeley Ironworks, where I rock climb.

As a stick in time, yesterday I did 8 climbs ranging from a 10a to 11c. I really love the stemming techniques. Check out rock climbing in the Bay Area from Touchstone gyms.