Mock Turtle's San Francisco Life

Dating Life: I Posted This Ad On Craigslist...Annotated

2011-12-03T21:11:00.000-08:00

Note: I posted this ad on craigslist last Valentines Day. It was just an experiment. I was more interested in writing the ad itself and not at all interested in meeting anybody. I got something like 20 responses, none of them viable. I took the ad down after I kept receiving responses asking what kind of drugs I was using (none). Here for your reading pleasure is the ad, annotated.

***

Un Chien Andalou (n.1) or Warm and Heavy Like Old Friendship

[Once upon a time...] (n.2)

Those ancient and old symbols quiver in the bright sunlight. We don't feel as old as we are but time keeps marching on as soldiers in formation. While the phalanx formation was appropriate for angels (n.3), time has no such poetry. It's all just straight lines and measured beats.

Speaking of poetry, how about if I do a little waxing? Of moonlight and walks on the beach? Of the stars that twinkle like shattered windshield glass on nighttime asphalt (n.4)? On seashore while we walk, ignoring the flaring bonfires of hipsters and hippies in our midst, watching cloud-like clumps of sea foam sliding across dark wet sand (n.5). Sandpipers are just barely visible running over the shore, delicate shadows. I could go on but I think what makes this evening special is the easy silence between us, your arm around my shoulders, warm and heavy like old friendship.

[Eight years later...]

This past week it's all about the films. Independent ones. I've tried cramming as many films into this week and next that I'm about to collapse from the stories and images flying around my subconscious like sugared up screech owls (n.6). Sure, I stole those words from the title cards but I couldn't resist. This post is about time after all. Time together, time marching on, the time of our lives, good times, and the time is now. Time bending and twisting like my brain did while watch nun exploitation films at 1:00 am with bad editing and worse acting (n.7).

I like to do a lot of other stuff too. Writing, obviously, though I write fiction with coherent stories most of the time. I like looking at paintings and sculptures. I like notes and beats, instruments. The usual stuff, though I'd be lying if I didn't disclose that the main reason I indulge myself in such pursuits is to fuel my imagination for more writing. Speaking of more, let's talk about that. More excellent conversation, more sexy moments, more telling you how cool you are (n.8), more fun times, more exploration of the world and each other.

Not less. I'm tired of less. The biggest form of less in my life right now is the job situation, just so you know. Other forms of less that have proved tiring: less kindness, less warmth, less understanding, less lovely connections.

[Around three in the morning...]

We are not battleships passing each other in the night firing our guns at random. When we see each other, we defy the usual norms by actually staying and talking, then asking each other our names, then explaining that we'd like to meet for coffee or a dinner. We like each other and follow through. We listen to each other and want to know more stuff about...us. At least that's the hope. A good one, wouldn't you say? For hope is not the broken down, kicked-in-the-ass bird trying to fly around on one wing that I sometimes imagine it to be. No, hope is the real deal, the enduring idea, and the sweet clenching in my chest. Hope never goes away in spite of my best efforts (n.9).

[Sixteen years ago...]

About me:
Long dark hair, eyes like the night wind
A little on the chubby side (padded)
Beautiful but in an average, non-descript way (n.10)
A solar-like smile
Short

Looking for single/divorced, educated man.

[In the Spring...]

My life is full of too many maybes and what ifs. You know what I mean. These things crowd around me like gnats with tiny bombs. The only what ifs worthy of my attention are the ones related to my stories. Time to walk out into this big world, barefoot and open. Time to take a look around. Time to see what's up. If you've made it this far in this post, I thank you for reading. If you're at all interested, please do write.

****

I've written some excellent ads on craiglist over the years but this was the weirdest one. I read a horoscope that stated I needed to keep experimenting and frolicking around in matters of love. Or rather I interpreted it as frolicking. This was one way I could think of doing just that. I have no idea if I'll get any responses but I wanted to share this strange piece of writing with you anyway. Besides, it's fucking Valentine's Day, right?

***

Footnotes
(n.1) "Un Chien Andalou" is the most famous surrealist film ever made. It was a French silent film made in 1929 and directed by Luis Bunuel. Here's a blog post I did on it.
(n.2) The comments in brackets follow the title cards in "Un Chien Andalou," hence the post title. A title card was used in silent films to set the time, note dialogue, or provide explanations. Luis used the title cards in this film to mess around with time and force people to shift their expectations of what was happening when.
(n.3) In Milton's "Paradise Lost," there's a war in Heaven and the angels use the Ancient Greek phalanx formation in their battles. If you've seen the movie "300," Gerard Butler goes into a short explanation of how it works.
(n.4) It occurred to me that this phrase "shattered windshield glass on nighttime asphalt" might be a bit too grim to include in a personal ad but I left it in because I really like it.
(n.5) I was walking on Ocean Beach by myself one night and there were these giant clumps of seafoam sliding across the dark wet sand. They looked like cumulus clouds and they were moving very steadily. I felt like a giant walking on the roof of the world.
(n.6) I was in the middle of attending the San Francisco Independent Film Festival (SF IndieFest) when I wrote this post.
(n.7) The name of this film was "Nude Nuns With Big Guns" and I really did watch at 1:00 am.
(n.8) In Miss Turtle's world, one of the biggest compliments I can give a guy is "You are so cool." The only one that's better is when I tell him he's my hero. Heroes in my life are few and far between, starting with my Dad. The guy has to be a knockout to reach that status.
(n.9) This part is painfully honest. I'm generally a cynic when it comes to matters of love but this little confession about how hope never goes away even though I try to beat the crap out of it is so true.
(n.10) I'm always brutally honest when I post dating ads but there's nothing average and non-descript about the way I look. I wrote that down because guys never seem to notice me.

Old Blog - Dating Life: Strange Comments From Guys I've Dated

2011-11-14T23:30:00.000-08:00

(First posted 12/14/05) A friend of mine asked me to put this post up along with its counterpart (see post below)

"I always sleep with the same hand towel on my head every night. I've been doing that since I was three years old." (First Date)

"You really should check out the Power Exchange sometime but it's only interesting if you're really drunk or really stoned." (Second Date - The Power Exchange is a famous sex/fetish club here in SF. I have not been there.)

"Don't you want to be loved, adored, and worshiped? Don't you?" (Second Date)

"I guess you're kinda cute." (First Date)

"Since we have time before the movie starts, why don't we go to my car and stretch out in the back seat? I have some CDs we can listen to." (First Date - the guy was particularly proud that he had an SUV and really wanted to get me in there)

"So what are your feelings about the toilet seat? Should it be up or down?" (First Date)

"So when do we get to have sex?" (Fourth Date - This guy was not making any moves in that direction at all. He wasn't trying to hold my hand nor did he try to kiss me. Nothing.)

"Yes, I have a real Warhol. I used to have a Chagall but I gave it to my lawyers to pay for attorney's fees." (Second Date)

"I can't watch movies with subtitles and eat at the same time." (Second Date)

Old Blog - Dating Life: Strange Comments I've Made To Guys I've Dated

2011-11-14T23:02:00.001-08:00

(First posted on 12/22/05) In all fairness, I've decided to include the list below. I can be quirky and stupid, and I'm known for sticking my foot in my mouth. At least I'm honest about it.

"So what is the point of being enlightened anyway?" (First Date - I said this after a guy was explaining with much enthusiasm how he had achieved a high level of spiritual awareness. I also quoted Captain Kirk during this conversation.)

"It's time for you to shut the fuck up now." (Third Date - The guy was going on and on about how hemp was going to save the world.)

"I can't spend the night with you. My dog has serious separation anxiety and she will freak out if I don't come home." (Fourth Date - It has been suggested that I've used this as an excuse, maybe it's along the same lines as "You can't come up to my apartment, my dog hates men," but it's true; my dog can't handle being by herself all night long.)

"Wait, isn't your email handle the same name as the husband who killed his wife in 'Vertigo?'" (First Phone Call - It turned out of the true, believe it or not. He never thought in a million years that anyone would figure that out. This is why Google is so great.)

"This is just a one night stand. I can't be your girlfriend." (The Day After - apparently it wasn't clear to the guy that this was the situation because he kept insisting that I really did want to be his girlfriend.)

"You've been evaluating and testing me all evening, trying to see if I fit into some preconceived notions of what a mate should be. Knock it off." (First Date - this guy was clearly looking for a wife and I passed all his tests with flying colors. Unfortunately I couldn't stand him.)

"What kind of person doesn't watch DVD commentaries?" (Third Date - Sometimes the movie snob in me comes out in full force. The guy liked movies; I was floored when he told me he'd never watched a DVD commentary. He said it was too much of a time commitment.)

"I'm sick of people making fun of me because I love Harry Potter. You need to get out of my face with that shit." (First Date - I've made this comment, or a similar one, a couple of times now.)

"Are you going to talk to me or are you just going to stand there talking to your friend?" (First Meeting - I was sitting at a restaurant bar eating dinner and reading a book. This older gentleman was standing nearby talking to his friend about the book I was reading but looking at me. He did talk to me but was so thrown by what I said that it didn't last long.)

"Was that a joke? Are you being funny?" (Fourth Date - This was a difficult one for me. I really liked the guy but was self-conscious around him. I couldn't tell if he liked me, I couldn't tell if he was joking most of the time, and he was very impatient about it. He concluded that I had no sense of humor and we were not compatible.)

"Why did you bring that leather whip?" (First Time Sleeping Together - I think it's rude to bring your BDSM toys to bed the first time you're going to sleep with someone without checking to see if the other person is into it too.)

"What is up with the stem on this rose?" (First Date - This guy bought me a rose while we were having dinner in North Beach. The stem was really thick. I proceeded to suggest that the stem had been genetically engineered to be thick and went on about the possible reasons why. He didn't know how to respond to my comments. Poor guy.)

"Don't make me figure out the tip." (Nearly Every Date - said in the same tone of voice as "Don't make me hurt you.")

Jittered, Capped, and Dead Weight

2011-10-20T00:40:00.000-07:00

Below are three separate posts from my old blog. When I first posted it, people told me Jittered was a strong piece of writing, the first compliment of its kind for me. Fortunately, it wasn't the last one. The other two posts, Capped and Dead Weight, are meant to follow Jittered. I love all three. Jittered accurately describes a stressful day at work where all the men found me insanely attractive for some reason. Maybe it was because I was wearing a skirted suit. I love Capped because it's an odd description of complete exhaustion vs. sexual longing. Jittered might be the best written of the three but Dead Weight is my favorite, especially the end.

****

Jittered(First Posted Feb. 9, 2006)

At 7:20 am I stood outside City Halllooking for the way in. I ignored that replica Italian dome vying for myattention. The sun was warm, the sky beautiful and it was already a bad startto the day.

I walked briskly, trying to disguise thefact that I had the shakes. I was pulling a hand truck with importantdocuments. Documents that could make or break things, but I didn't care. Istill had to get into the building. Something popped in my head. Grove. Street.I walked passed a couple of guys who both said good morning. I've been lookinggood lately. I feel like hell, but I smile and flirt anyway. Part of the job.

I'm holding the one thing in my hand thatI should not be carrying. The one thing that will make and break me: a cup ofstrong coffee with a little sugar. I haven't drank it yet. When I do,everything will go jittered. My thoughts will scattershot all over the place.Must wait for the right moment.

7:42 am and I'm arguing with security whokeeps telling me to go to the door at the end. I try to stay calm, but thatshaky inside feeling is getting worse. I finally find the right door. The sunblazes outside. The angry employees are leaving all that warm sunshine for thebig dome.

I manage to make it through the metaldetector without falling to pieces. The security guard chats away. I thank himand move on. Basement. Okay. Up the elevator now. The men are tripping overthemselves to help me find my room. They try to talk to me as we ride up fourfloors. I long to ask someone what kind of wood is on the paneling, but I keepforgetting. The brain is jumping here and there. To and fro. When I get off onmy floor, the men realize they forgot to press their floor number.

I make it to my room and the door islocked. I wait outside with the documents. The hallway is long and wide withgleaming white marble floors. More men in suits show up and they all smile, saygood morning. One guy really likes me. He's a hyperactive little shit or maybeI'm just projecting.

I drink my coffee now. I breathe. It's thelast breath of the day that will have any effect except to move the oxygenaround. In about ten minutes, I can barely keep it together. The morning fliesby, a blur of papers and people. I'm sitting for hours on a red velvet chairthat's too small. I get cranky. I want to punch the only other chick here inthe face. Bitch.

Later I'm wandering through theController's Office. Everyone ignores me. I smile and look around waiting forsomeone to ask me what the hell I'm doing there. No one does. I could stealanything from that place right now because all the employees are sitting aroundtalking about what they watched on TV last night. There are too many exitshere, too many side stairs.

Back to my velvet seat. I drank that cupof coffee as quickly as possible. I'm so wired, I can't feel sorry for myselfanymore. I try to calm down, but it's not working. I'm still cranky, but I'mkicking ass. I don't know how I do it. The suit next to me keeps flirting.Giving me sideways glances. He smells good.

I wander into the hallway to make a phonecall. I stare down to the main part of the building. I look up at the huge domeand then down four floors of white marble and concrete. Alarms are going off inmy body, something about not falling and going splat. I'm having a perfectlyordinary conversation and then another one. Each lasts ten minutes. My voicehas not started shaking, but I notice it's pitched to a slightly higher octave.Inside my head pounds and my eyeballs start to burn. Tears run down my left cheek.I manage to stop the tears and get off the phone. Now my eyes are burning sobad it feels like I've been blasted with tear gas. I stop and "drop"into the moment. It works, but now I'm in the "moment" eyeballsburning and inside shaking.

Back to my red velvet seat. I kick somemore ass. I got everything. You want it now? I got it. I'm ready for ya, baby.Bring it on. I know what you want before you do.

I'm finally out of there. I have to gofind a man about some equipment. I spend the next 30 minutes wandering aroundCity Hall while he tells me I can have anything, I just have to ask him. Hegives me his cell phone number. I thank him and leave. The security guardinsists upon carrying my boxes for me down the front stairs.

Day isbeautiful. So am I. Jittered.

Capped(First Posted Feb. 9, 2006)

Safe in my stripped down apartment, theshakes start to subside a little. I'm pushing the envelope with all the wrongcombinations. The only thing that would make things more interesting is if Iadded some recreational drugs. No dice tonight.

I watch a very bad movie. The same messagekeeps showing up: "The disk is dirty." That's accurate. I have toturn it off after a few clicks of the remote. Brain overload. I need water.

I shake out my thick hair and smooth creamon my soft skin. Floss. Brush. Stretch. I have good, sensitive hands.

Almost timefor bed. I'll curl up in my silky cool sheets and dream about all the things Ineed so badly. I want to whisper softly. I want to tumble and flourish. Icouldn't even if I wanted to. The body wants much, but must drop into dreamlandnow.

Dead Weight(First Posted Feb. 10, 2006)

The trembly overlay stayed with me allday. At least I didn't feel like punching that bitch out. In fact, I didn'tfeel like punching anybody out. Progress. I had a glimpse, a murmur of what itmust feel like when the gangster raps that it was a good day because no one died.

I keep drawing shivery breaths. I managedto stay off the caffeine. I went to my own funeral just now, but left becausethey were getting ready to put me in the ground. The box is not a good placefor me; cremation is the only way to go. Heaven and Hell are two sides of thesame coin, two turns in the wheel. My worst nightmare is about to come true:I'm going to be reincarnated as a creature at the bottom of the food chain. Akrill, anchovy or zooplankton.

I keep telling myself I should be comingdown now, but it's not happening. That's not unusual. I tell myself things allthe time and the outside just ignores all my yapping. The brain bounces butthen goes back to center and stays for a second. I can't hear anything anymore.A promising sign.

I sat in my car when I got home and closedmy eyes. I'd found center again and wanted to stay there. So I stayed for awhile. The world went dark and quiet. No dreams. No nothing.

A friend looked me over today and said Ilooked like I should be reporting the news. "I like it," he said. Myarms are trembling a little and I don't want to think about my hands anymore. Iam chagrined and sheepish. Nothing new there.

The usual confusion blasts through myhead. I'm full of mysteries and cocksure of them all. Everything is complicatedbecause I make it so. Deadweight it all. Need to channel all those stories outof my really really world and onto the page where they belong.

Then I standup straight. I look around. The stories are overflowing. It's like the waterpouring out of the dark apartment, taps turned up full. I'm so shrink wrappedthat I can't even see them. I've been slogging through the water and notnoticing them at all. Everything is right in front of me.

Writing Life: Class Progress - Part Two

2011-10-18T21:55:00.000-07:00

I'm supposed to be writing now, you know, working on my novel but I've been screwing off this evening so I'll further indulge myself by writing this post. I already frittered away the evening by getting the photos from my Zion trip ready for public viewing. Who knows, I may email one of my classmates after this blog post is done if my brain continues to rebel.

Nah, I won't do that. What I'm going to do after this post is published is write. What I mean by that is I'm going to work on my class novel (this blog post doesn't really count towards my daily quota). And the reason why is because I have been writing everyday (except this past Sunday when we were hiking the Narrows at Zion) and this habit has ingrained itself into my psyche.

Write everyday, man. Produce. It's becoming my new motto. Write even if I'm sitting in the back of the car, as we scream down I-5 en route to Vegas and then onto Zion National Park. Write even though I'm crammed in with all the camping gear, luggage, pillows, etc. and there's barely any elbow room. Write even though it's night at the campsite and everyone else is sitting around the picnic table having a lovely dinner. I'm eating too but I'm apart from everyone because I have to "work." The stars are ablaze overhead and the moon has not yet come up. And still I have my eyes fixed to my Galaxy Tab while they indulge in conversation.

Write no matter what.

***

We are little more than halfway through the class and my critiques are getting ever more detailed and elaborate. I don't think this is a good thing though one of my classmates assures me that it is. I just keep finding more and more things to suggest about sentence structure, first lines, story structure, transitions, characters, etc. And if someone asks me to answer questions about the story, like one person did, then God help them I'm off on a whole new page of commentary. I had to force myself to keep the comments to one page. I think I moved the margins and went down a font size in an attempt to look like I wasn't babbling on. So fucking embarrassing.

Thing is, going to such measures is a lot of work. I have to be in the right frame of mind and ready to put pen to paper. I have to have a large block of time because I do it all in one go so I can keep the story fresh in my mind. And I have to think, and reach, and keep digging to find more stuff to pull out of myself that might have some use to the writer.

All this effort is making my own writing better. And I know my long winded critiques are helping at least one student. And my teacher tells me I'm getting good at picking apart stories.

Rest assured I'm not making all this effort for the other writers in my class. I'm doing it for me. I know that if I put an enormous amount of effort into this shit then the benefits will come back to me a thousand-fold. Or at least ten-fold. Something like that.

***

My ability to produce a story quickly out of thin air is getting easier. Whether the story is any good is a whole other thing. I'm getting the idea that the novel I'm working on for this class isn't going in the right direction and I'm going to have to completely rewrite it. Though this can be disconcerting, it's actually huge progress on my part. Most of the time I get through the entire first draft before I discover the story isn't right and then I sit there wringing my hands wondering what the hell to do next.

I can skip the wringing hands part this time because I know what I need to do. Progress.

Though all of these things are good, I'm expected to make a contribution to our class anthology Portion Control and I have no idea what I'm going to contribute. I'm inwardly balking at the idea of including an excerpt of my class novel. It's going to have to be something else. Christ, how am I going to pull that off?

Yeah, I did say I can produce quickly but...well, I guess we are going to see just how quickly in the next couple of weeks.

***

Even with all my bellyaching, this class is one of the best things to happen to me in my writing life. I'm seeing myself getting better and better, hands getting dirty, ink stains everywhere. And good habits being developed besides.

I jokingly told my instructor when he was done with me I was going to be carved out of wood. I was kidding but now I'm sure that statement is true.

Time to work. On my class novel. Not on the email to my classmate.

P.S. Wow, I barely had to edit this post. I guess I am getting better.

Zion Road Trip 2011

2011-10-18T21:02:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's that time of year again. A time to get into the car and drive for 13 hours on Friday, arrive at Zion for the weekend, then hop back in the car on Monday to drive another 13 hours home. Still, it was a lovely trip. The weather was amazing (but a bit too hot for my taste). Gourmet food, wine, and cocktails were brilliant as always. Camping in tents and no showering for a couple of days.

And, best of all, fantastic friends. Click on the picture to enjoy the photo album.

City Life: Golden Gate Park Near the Baseball Diamonds

2011-10-08T15:49:00.001-07:00

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Writing Life: Class Progress - Part One

2011-09-17T14:15:00.000-07:00

I started a writing class. It's only the second one I've taken in my entire life. The first one I took at San Francisco City College when I got here seven years ago and it was pretty bad. The instruction, if you want to call it that, was non-existent.

At the time I thought I could teach the class better even though I didn't have much writing experience. Now I know I could teach it better and I haven't published anything.

This writing class is taught by Tony DuShane. Check out the link there if you want to know more about him. He's published a novel and has his own interview show, etc. I decided to start a new novel for this class instead of working on one of my existing ones. I have plans for them and don't want to show them to anyone right now. I was feeling a bit cheeky about that, truth be told. Sure, yeah! A new class, new novel! No problem.

However, last Tuesday I sat down at my Galaxy Tab and stared at the blank screen. I realized I had to pull an entirely new novel out of thin air and I wasn't sure if I was up to the task. To top it off, this novel will be critiqued so I can't write a new novel and allow it to be a major mess no one looks at. There has to be something for people to work with and it has to be of reasonable quality so no one's time, especially mine, is wasted. The only thing I had to work with is I decided it was going to be a haunted house story. I knew I wanted the setting to be a huge, sprawling estate. I had an idea for the opening sequence but no ideas for the characters, the story, or even what the house looks like.

Almost everyone else is working on novels/memoirs they've had for a while so they're all farther along than I am and (presumably) their stories are going to be more polished. I stared at the blank screen of my Tab, place my fingers on the keyboard, and started pounding out a story.

****

The story isn't terrible so far. I decided to completely go for it with this class. If people are going to be critiquing my first draft I might as well push myself to produce something and not rely so much on the revision process before I do any polishing. I'm uncomfortable with anybody looking at my first draft so this will be a valuable learning experience.

Tony's approach so far is spot on. He requires that we work on our novels everyday for at least 20 minutes and that we critique our fellow students' work every week. This is going to be a difficult thing to maintain for eight weeks but just these class requirements alone should seriously improve my writing, editing, and ability to produce quality material.

I'm going to have the first ten pages of my story reviewed during the second critique session. I have to email everyone my draft this Monday. I started this novel last Tuesday. Tony asked for volunteers and once again, I just fucking went for it. For myself, and this may not apply to other writers, I think the ability to pull a story out of thin air, write it down quickly, and make it into something good in a short period of time is a worthwhile skill to have.

Stay tuned for more on this class.

City Life: The Inside of the Pink Church on my Blog Header!

2011-09-10T12:26:00.001-07:00

Will come back soon to take pics with my regular camera.

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Short Term Stability

2011-09-08T19:05:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been wondering what's going to become of me.

I have a good, stable temp job right now. A six month gig in a nice company. The job isn't too taxing. the commute is easy, and the people are nice. This job could extend another six months but that would give me only a year of stable employment.

What happens after that? I don't have any more savings. I burned through it when I was unemployed the last time out. Three jobs in four years. Is there something wrong with me? Am I too old? Too expensive?

A rep from the recruiter who put me into this company called me this morning to ask if I wanted to go to an interview at a law firm. I explained I was at this company and, therefore, committed to this six month job. She said she understood and would update her records (!). Then she asked me again if I would consider interviewing for this firm. I told her no. When they put me into this company, my other rep for this same recruiter said they expected me to work the entire six months and I said I would. Besides, the firm who wanted to interview me gave me the runaround about six weeks ago. Yes, no, yes, then a last minute, same day interview cancellation. They can go fuck themselves. Who wants to go interview for a bunch of arrogant attorneys who think it's all right to treat people like that? Not me.

What companies/firms don't realize is how they treat the interviewees becomes a clear indication of how they treat their employees. And maybe even how they treat their customers. Sure, they're in the driver's seat right now but there's no reason to behave like arrogant fucks about it.

As for what will become of me, I don't know. I might find a good, stable job by the end of six months or as this temp gig is coming to a close. I may have to leave my beloved San Francisco and go home to my parents so I can get back on my feet again. I may win the lottery or publish a bestseller. Yeah, right.

For now, I'm happy to have this job. It doesn't require a whole lot of energy and there's plenty of energy left over for writing. For the next six months I'm going to enjoy myself and try to get some good fiction work done. My job after this one may be some ballbreaker situation where I have to work tons of overtime and particularly sell my soul so I can pay the rent and some bills. You never know.

City Life: The San Francisco Bay

2011-09-07T22:04:00.000-07:00

So this is interesting. I took the photos below of the San Francisco Bay at high tide along the Embarcadero not too long ago.

This was was taken the my phone camera. It turned out all right though it's a little dark. The dark blue of the water works very well here even if it's not accurate.

This one was taken about two minutes earlier with my regular camera in the same spot. It's a very accurate view of the color of the water. I was lucky with the cormorant. It had just surfaced when I took the shot. A moment later it dove back down into the water.

Some pilings in the water. I think that's what they're called. The tan in the water is a reflection from one of the pillars of the Bay Bridge. The light and reflection on the water was just right at that moment. Less than a minute later the tan in the water was gone.

Sea Sugimoto

2011-09-07T00:17:00.000-07:00

Hiroshi Sugimoto is a photographer known mostly for his seascapes and theater photos. This is my inept attempt to emulate one of his seascapes. This is the San Francisco Bay as seen from my new employer's lobby. I took this picture with my phone camera. How the hell it came out so pink is beyond me. When I see the photo on my phone it looks gray. I'll take another one with my good camera later.

***

Note: I posted the above photo and a variation of the accompanying paragraph on Facebook a little while ago.

***

And the experiments continue. I started posting pictures along with a short blurb on Google+ rather than try to mimic my Facebook feed. It seemed pointless post statuses there too. I was kind of taken with the idea of having my Google+ account become a short form blog with just pictures and short blurbs to accompany them. The problem is there's no one hanging out on Google+. This is a shame because I really prefer that interface and I like how you can control who sees your posts.

I decided it would be a worthwhile experiment because I take hundreds of photos, sometimes in one session, and only share a fraction of them (the percentage has to be less than 25%). I posted a photo yesterday on FB and this one today but I'm not feeling it. I might just ditch that idea altogether and start posting them straight to this blog. It's kind of where they belong anyway.

Shit. I say to hell with FB. Here's another one from the same session that I didn't add to my FB status feed. What is UP with the pink in these photos?

Giant Teddy Bear on MUNI

2011-08-24T20:55:00.001-07:00

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City Life: Elaborately Painted Door at 20th and Valencia

2011-08-24T19:57:00.001-07:00

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City Life: Stow Lake and Strawberry Hill in Golden Gate Park

2011-08-24T11:42:00.000-07:00

Stow Lake is a donut shaped man-made lake. It's located up the hill from the Japanese Tea Garden. Strawberry Hill is a small island in the center.

I spent some time there last Saturday. It was cold and quiet. Usually the boathouse is open and there are plenty of people in paddle boats and row boats but the day I was there, no one was on the water.

Stow Lake is a lovely little walk. You can walk all the way around the lake, cross the footbridges, and walk up the hill. I used to bring my dog here. I live about five blocks from this section of Golden Gate Park.

The photos highlight one of the realities of San Francisco: its cold, foggy summers. I'll never understand why people don't check the weather before they travel somewhere. San Francisco is located in the Sunshine state, it's true, but our overcast, cold summers are legendary. Not to say there aren't any nice, sunny days in the summer but they are few and far between and tend to be cool and breezy. As soon as you leave the City, however, and cross a bridge or go just a bit south, you leave the fog behind and temperature is in the 70s and 80s.

The best time to visit San Francisco is in the Fall. It's the warmest, loveliest time of year, usually (check the weather first!)

As I mentioned Stow Lake is located behind the Japanese Tea Garden. This is a picture of the front entrance of the Tea Garden just to give you some orientation.

This is the back exit of the Tea Garden and...

...directly behind the tea garden exit are these stairs. Take the stairs up to Stow Lake.

Ah yes, an idyllic scene. The quiet was nice but I have to say I missed seeing folks on the lake attempting to get their paddle boats to move faster. And watching people in a row boat on the lake is a nice romantic image. You can see the Peace Pavilion on the far right.

You know, I'm pretty good at identifying birds, water fowl in particular, but I can't find anything that tells me what this goose-like bird is. Either way, he's particularly splendid (I'm assuming it's a he because of the lovely plumage and red around his face).

If I'd been thinking about it, I would have brought my sketchbook and done some drawings. I'll have to go back there with my notepad soon. I also saw a Canada Goose, the usual assortment of Mallards, and a Red-eared Slider Turtle. The lake has quite of few formerly domestic turtles that have been "set free" by owners who don't want them anymore. There's also Koi in the lake. I wasn't looking very hard but there are plenty of other animals around here.

I made my way along the footpath and crossed the first footbridge I found. I went directly to the man-made waterfall. There was a fashion photo shoot going on.

The lovely couple. I love how her yellow dress provided a "pop" of color for the gray day.

The waterfall.

There's a staircase along side the waterfall. It's a nice climb.

A shot of the fashion photo shoot from above.

A view from the top of the waterfall.
As you can see, there are places to stop and sit on the way up.

The top of the Hill. There's a view but it's partly obscured by trees.

The view from Strawberry Hill looking west.
That's the Pacific Ocean and our legendary fog rolling in.

A pop of color from the various flowers planted around the top of the Hill.

There were a few people here and there. Locals with their dogs, solitary folks who regularly walk the hill as part of their day-to-day routine, tourists, and young couples. There are appeared to be quite a few young couples on getting-to-know-you dates. Having them around gave the atmosphere a kind of sweetness. It was rather ingenious. The young men were able to give their jackets to the young women because of the chill, a chivalrous gesture.

I made my way down the west side of the Hill. Because of the wind and fog, I could smell the sea and the nasturtiums that dot the path. I kept inhaling deeply. The scents in the air were almost therapeutic.

A view of the west side and one of the footbridges. In addition to boats, you can also rent a bicycle. A bicycle ride around the Lake and through the Park in general is a wonderful way to spend your time.

The forest and the trees. I'm almost at the bottom of the Hill at this point.

Yet another footbridge. A young couple were biking around the Lake on a date.
I offered to take a picture of them sitting on the bridge. They were adorable.

More water, more waterfowl.
I've come full circle. The Peace Pagoda from the other direction.
That's Strawberry Hill on the left.

Strawberry Hill. You can see the waterfall.
I didn't go to the Pagoda but it's a nice place to linger and take photos.

My Dog's Grave

2011-08-21T12:14:00.001-07:00

Looks like my dad planted a new bush there.

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Wine Notes: Prager 2001 Aria White Port

2011-08-18T22:03:00.001-07:00

Seriously good shit.

I've been meaning to open this bottle for long while now because of its age. It's a good thing I finally did because while the cork was intact, it was getting a bit soft. I bought this port on my first wine trip with my girlfriends but I was already familiar with Prager. My ex and I went there for our honeymoon in 1988. Prager is a small operation run by a single family. They are located right next to Sutter Home. If you're in Napa Valley, I highly recommend stopping by.

As you can see from the label, the alcohol content is 18%. This port is produced from Napa Valley Chardonnay grapes. As mentioned before I like reds and generally prefer whites that have been fermented in steel barrels so this was a departure for me. The label notes that this port can be served chilled and I have to say it tastes GREAT chilled.

The wine itself is a golden amber color. There's no mistaking the high alcohol content. With the nose, you're hit with alcohol fumes but with some patience and letting the port breathe a bit you can pick out just a hint of roasted marshmallows that have not yet been burned.

According to label, this port has "flavors of apples and pears with a pronounced nutty finish." Well, after 10 years it doesn't really taste like that anymore. The most striking thing about it is when it first hits your tongue, it has a long super smooth beginning. There's no syrupy mouth feel but there is floral honey and subtle flavors of very fresh caramel, like just cooked caramel. It seems like there might be a bit of spice on the sides but that could just be the high amount of alcohol. There's a hint of very juicy ripe pears before the swallow. The finish isn't long but I can taste caramel apples (the kind you get at the Boardwalk, not the gourmet kind) and I get just the barest taste of cashews but that's it for the "nutty finish." When it's warm you can taste cotton candy at the very end of the finish.

I definitely prefer this port chilled but it tastes great when it's a little warm. I'm drinking it with Ham and White Bean Soup with Spinach and it's friggin' awesome! Too bad I don't have any Rosemary Foccacia Bread to go with it.

Contents Of My Backpack

2011-08-11T01:51:00.000-07:00

I have a lot of backpacks. Too many for my own good. Most of the time I carry the one below. It's beautiful, lightweight, cozy, and has a laptop sleeve. Since I carry a lot of stuff, I thought I'd make a list of the current contents. Just for fun.

Front zip pocket (clockwise from the Meetup sign):

Coffee splattered Meetup sign for my writing groups.
"Billy Elliot" theater ticket. A great musical, by the way.
Lighter. I don't smoke but you never know when you're going to be stuck in a med lab with an alien and you have to set off the fire alarm so the marines will come rescue you. Okay, maybe I've watched "Aliens" a few too many times but my excuse is I own the Alien Quadrilogy DVD box set.
Buttons from my favorite online comic: two "tops" and one "bottom."
Hemp Lip Conditioner from Body Shop and Vincent Longo Lip Stain Lipstick in Belle Etoile. Ms Anne, a regular reader of this blog, once asked me how my lipstick stays so perfect in my pictures. This is the lipstick I use for those photos and for nearly everything else. I also like Burt's Bees lip balm.
Mints
Stash's English Breakfast black tea bag.
A sample of Gun Oil, a silicone lubricant from Good Vibrations, a famous woman owned sex shop here in San Francisco.
Work badge, volunteer badge.
Moleskine Notebook: plain pages, soft cover, pocket size.
Various pens, including a green mechanical pencil and some Hello Kitty pens.

Main middle compartment (clockwise from purple scarf):

Purple tissue weight cashmere pashmina scarf bought on sale at Nordstroms and, other than my Raybans, ID case, and phone, my constant companion.
One hand knitted merino wool "Oliver Twist" style fingerless glove bought at an antique shop in the Mission. The other glove is around here somewhere.
Zip cosmetic bag with various sundry items: hair brush, contact lens case, compact, etc.
Super gory Korean military mystery/horror film "The Guard Post." The film is a bit confusing with the flashbacks but I really liked it. I should enjoy subsequent viewings. Not available here in the U.S., had to order it from the U.K.
Ear buds for phone.
Flash light in case I get stuck in the MUNI tunnel and the power goes out. Hmm. I better check those batteries.
Not shown: Motorola Droid phone and its power cord.

Laptop sleeve (clockwise from the keyboard):

Close to full size keyboard made specifically for my Galaxy Tab. It's very sturdy, has a good feel to the keys, and there's no typing lag time. It was pricey at the time and a little heavier than I would have liked but turned out to be a great buy.
Samsung Galaxy Tab, 7 inch screen. Tablets are typically thought of as "consumer" devices but I use mine primarily for writing. My favorite writing program, Scrivener for Mac, syncs folders and documents through Dropbox so I have my entire story on the Tab. When changes are made, it uploads the edited files to Dropbox and when I open Scrivener, the changes are sync'd inside the program. I can also upload new files from Scrivener to Dropbox to my Tab. No more cutting and pasting documents. It's beautiful! I also have Amazon Kindle on the Tab. I surf the internet, check Twitter and GReader, etc. but mostly I write on it. I often pull up my current story when I'm in the tunnel on MUNI and read and make edits with the onscreen keyboard.
Power and extension cords for Galaxy Tab.

Items I'm never without:

Raybans. I wear my Raybans all the time, even at night. I don't do it because it looks cool; I do it because they are very good at blocking the wind. Because I wear hard contact lenses, any little thing that gets into my eyes hurts like hell and I can't see. Raybans prevent stuff from being blown into my eyes. Sometimes I'll wear them on MUNI late at night when I take the bus because they're a kind of psychological barrier between you and bothersome/drunk/stoned passengers. For some reason, people tend to leave me alone if I'm wearing them.
Clipper card. This is my public transportation card for MUNI and BART. I use both all the time.
Zip ID case. I replaced my wallet with this wonderful little case. I have my drivers license, insurance and registration info, credit card, ATM card, Starbucks gold card, cash, and several different museum membership cards. Sometimes, like now, it gets a little full so I have to empty it out on a regular basis.
Not shown: Again, the Motorola Droid phone which I'm using to take these pictures.

And the main missing item? My camera and an extra charged battery. I should carry my camera everywhere but I don't because of the extra weight it adds. I need to get used to carrying it with me all the time, like before. When I first started this blog, the camera was another one of my constant companions.

City life: The Castro

2011-08-10T20:54:00.001-07:00

One of my favorite neighborhoods here in SF.

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City Life: An Upcoming Mini Pedro Almodovar Film Fest at Castro Theatre

2011-08-10T20:45:00.001-07:00

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Wine Notes: Kalyra 2004 Syrah Port

2011-08-02T23:33:00.001-07:00

I haven't written much about wine but my wine fridge holds 50 bottles and I'm slowly drinking my way through it. I'd like to keep a record of what I drink somewhere. I figured this blog is as good a place as any.

As you can see, this is a 2004 Syrah Port, half bottle. I bought this bottle during one of my wine trips with my girlfriends. We go tasting 1-2 times a year and when we're flush we might go up to 3 times a year. I think I bought this bottle in 2005, maybe 2006. I believe it was our first trip to the Santa Ynez Valley which is about 350 miles from San Francisco near Santa Barbara. Kalyra Winery was a busy place with very friendly, down-to-earth wine servers. Also, I recall the prices for the wines were economical.

Though I don't know much about grape varietals, I do enjoy a good Syrah. In fact, I don't really know much about wine in general but I do have a good palate, as my girlfriends say. I know what tastes good and can pick out subtle flavors in wine. When I first started wine tasting, I was mostly into Cabs (big reds). Now I really like Pinot Noir and Syrah. I still love a good Cab but I don't automatically zero in on them anymore. I've also been interested in whites. I particularly enjoy white wines that have been aged in steel barrels.

Back to this Syrah Port. Since it's a 2004 you know it's been in my wine fridge for several years. When I first opened it there was an overwhelming smell and taste of alcohol. As you can see from the label, the alcohol content is 19%. The thing is when I opened it up, the cork looked weird. I examined it and realized the cork is synthetic! It's made up of a kind of foam. In recent years we've seen wineries going to screw top and synthetic corks but I don't recall that happening in 2004-2005. I called my good friend and told her about it. We discussed the thinking behind using a screw top lid vs. synthetic cork. A screw top effectively arrests the wine in its current state; no more aging is possible with a screw top lid. Using a screw top lid is very effective with an already well-developed white wine. We've spoken to folks at wineries and they say a synthetic cork allows a little air in but the wine can't really age like it would with a regular cork. This means this Petite Syrah has been sitting in its own massive alcohol content for years.

I poured the wine into a wine glass with a big bowl and spent time swirling it around. If I had a decanter I would have definitely decanted it in an attempt to mellow out the alcohol fumes. When I first tasted it after swirling around it had a sweet port-y taste. I couldn't understand it. I enjoy port but not heavy sweet ports. I made no sense to me that I would have bought this bottle and I talked to my friend about this fact. I kept swirling and we kept talking. Eventually the wine had breathed long enough so I could get a better idea of the taste. Sometimes it can take a while for a wine flavor to really come out after it's been poured.

Decent to brilliant wines have three tasting stages: when it first hits your mouth, how it tastes after you've held it in your mouth (this is the stage where you can pick out any tastes on the side of your tongue), and the finish. By the way, this isn't anything I've read. It's just something I've learned while doing my own tasting. There's also "the nose," that is, what it smells like. And there's what the wine looks like: color, transparency, etc.

This Syrah port could definitely fall into the dessert wine category. It has an interesting mouth feel. Like some ports it has an almost syrupy feel but with some time to breathe it's not really sweet. When this Syrah first hits your mouth it tastes like very ripe strawberries that have been marinated in balsamic vinegar for several hours. It's taken me some time to figure this out. This explains the very fresh, ripe strawberries in the finish (after the swallow, it's very subtle), yet the syrupy mouth feel remains after the swallow and this has an almost maple-y flavor. There's a hint of box-just-opened brown sugar at the end but this is very subtle as well since this wine does not have a very long finish. Most of the time it doesn't take me that long time to figure out how a wine tastes but this was a tough one.

As for the nose, it's difficult to get an accurate scent because of the high alcohol content. Nah, I won't attempt to figure it out because I've already drank almost a full glass and since I'm a lightweight, I need to stop here.

I'll be enjoying this bottle for another couple of days and if memory serves, it was well worth the money I spent on it.

Writing Life: Stories on the Fly - An Explanation

2011-07-31T18:49:00.000-07:00

I've been wanting to do something like this for a while. That is, give myself a scenario such as the one in the post below (a woman, locked in a room, with a deadline), write a story within a certain time, and allow myself less time to edit the story. Then post it on this blog immediately.

It's really a writing exercise to see what I can come up with. With enough practice I should get better at it (I hope). When I was with my ex, we tried a similar idea but we had to tell the stories out loud to each other without writing anything down. I took the scenario (two men in a car, arguing about a woman) and told a complete story with a beginning, middle, and end right off the top of my head. There was plenty of conflict and secrets that came out in that little story. There was no time limit. The idea was we had to verbally tell the story until it was finished.

I'm going to try this exercise from time to time. Feel free to leave a scenario and a time limit in the comments if you'd like. The minimum time for writing the story is 15 minutes. I promise I won't cheat! I can't guarantee that all the stories will be good or even decent but I'll never improve unless I challenge myself.

Thanks for reading.

Writing Life: Stories on the Fly - The Only Way Out

2011-07-31T18:31:00.000-07:00

Total Writing Time: 15 Minutes; Total Editing Time: 8 minutes, 30 seconds

Scenario: A woman. Locked in a room. With a deadline.

The clock was ticking. She looked up at the window. Sheet metal had been welded over it. She checked her watch again. She knew it was two minutes fast. Yes, two minutes might be enough, she thought. Above her head near the top of the window, was a bomb. Just a handmade bomb but she could see there was enough explosives to destroy half the building, and certainly this entire room.

She was alone in a room about 500 square feet. The walls were painted black, featureless. The floor was made up of white shiny tiles. There were pools of bright lights concentrated in the center of the room, leaving the outer edges dark. There was only one window and one door. The door had bars of steel welded over the front of it on the other side. She knew this because there was a small screen hanging down from the ceiling in front of her showing the door and hallway outside. It was a little like one of those DVD screens that drop down inside a fancy, tricked out mini-van. No one was in the hallway. She had nothing but her clothes and her watch. She pounded the sheet metal over the window with her fist, testing it. There was no way to break through it.

After looking around the room, she walked around the outer edges quickly testing the walls for any weaknesses. She finished in the middle of the room and stared up at the DVD screen. It was attached to the ceiling but there seemed to be a seam in the ceiling. She jumped lightly, hitting the bottom of the DVD screen. There was the tiniest amount of give. She smiled.

She backed up and then ran towards the DVD screen and leaped up towards it. She grabbed the screen and held on, swinging her legs. The screen held and then her forward momentum pulled the screen's based too far and the screen ripped from the ceiling leaving a gaping hole that looked like it would just large enough for her to crawl through. She landed on her hip with a thud, pulling the screen and its cords with her. She checked her watch. There was only three minutes to go. She grabbed the cords and climbed up through the hole as quickly as she could. She was breathing hard but paid no attention. There was a long corridor of vents ahead of her. She had no idea if she was going to get far enough away in time but she had to try. She began crawling away from the room, barely able to get up on her knees. She went in the direction of the north side of the building near the river and kept going. She knew if she didn't reach the other end of the building, she would probably be killed in the blast or at least seriously injured.

She stayed focused. Kept moving, she thought. It was the only thing she could do. She could see the other end of the building in front of her. Just a little bit longer, she thought.

The building exploded.

Blog Housekeeping

2011-07-13T23:51:00.000-07:00

I moved this blog post just to keep everyone in the loop about the changes made. I first posted it on 7/9/11.

***

Today I did some housekeeping. First, I moved all my posts from my Fainting in Coils blog to this blog and shut down Fainting in Coils. Anything that would be been posted there will now have a label titled "Mr. Gryphon."

You can see I've included buttons at the top of my blog. The top row of buttons are About pages for general information and the bottom row of buttons are label buttons. I chose some categories I like and created the buttons. If you click on a label button, all posts with that label will be displayed. If you have a suggestion for label button, feel free to leave a comment. The list of all the labels I've used on my blog posts is still located on the side bar.

I created a separate link list on the side bar for my strange story FailSafe. It shows all the chapters in chron order and includes the Asides I wrote. I originally did a label button for it but found it to be too unwieldy given the story's length. When I finally get around to posting another story I will create a separate link list for it.

Lastly, for those of you following this blog I sincerely apologize if you were inundated with notifications or emails when I transferred the Fainting in Coils posts to this blog. I'm still not sure if all the blog posts I moved were sent to you as new postings, and my attempts to find out (and prevent this from happening) were met with failure.

Thanks for reading.

Old Blog - Posted on June 16, 2006: Fainting in Coils

2011-07-10T00:27:00.000-07:00

This is the first post featuring Mr. Gryphon. At the time, he was only "Gryphon." I added the Mr. shortly after. As I've said before, I created him when I was breaking up with my ex as a way to keep him around a little while longer.

In this post you can clearly see his trademark qualities: seriousness, unsmiling, and slight crankiness. Plus, he never hesitates to call me on my shit.

****

Gryphon and I spent the evening together last week. It was a beautiful San Francisco night. The Universe was playing up its parallel nature to the hilt. I was running late as usual. Gryphon was annoyed.

"Can't you tell those work people to shove it?"

"I try to but I don't get anywhere with that and if I continue they won't ask me back. Who would pay for dinner then?" I say.

"Hmm. Good point."

We make our way into the MUNI underground. Since this is San Francisco, California, United States of America, no one seems to notice the Gryphon and his wings. As long as he's wearing his chaps, no one casts a second look.

I'm feeling stiff from residual work week stress but then again that could just be my turtle shell. We somehow manage to fit on the MUNI train. The Gryphon folds his wings away.

"What about what's-his-name?" he asks. There a crunching sound as Gryphon crushes the bar he's holding on to.

"What about him?" I ask.

"Thought so," says the Gryphon. He gazes up and down the train, apparently satisfied that the topic of conversation has been exhausted. I'm relieved myself. I'm happy to be alone with what's-his-name and my thoughts for a change.

We're only going two stops to Powell Station. The doors open and we disembark. We make our way up to Union Square. Gryphon insists upon taking a Cable Car two stops to our destination. After some pushing and shoving, I manage to hang off the side of the Car, Rice-a-Roni style, and he's content to perch on top. Tourists gape and take pictures.

We reach our dinner destination, The Cheesecake Factory. There's only an hour wait. We put our names in and wait in the bar. Gryphon watches the basketball game on TV, he's quite fond of games. I sip my alcohol laced milk shake.

"I'm having lobster," he announces, shaking his great head.

"They don't have lobster, you'll have to settle for shrimp," I'd been reading the menu.

He gives a little growl but says nothing. The first time I'd met Gryphon was during a dance at the beach. He'd been pretty much keeping to himself on the shingle, kicking a stone here and there. Most people think he's too taciturn and solemn but we managed to become friends somehow. Since he's going to keep watching the game, I give up on talking to him until we sit down for dinner.

A server named Mandy, all bright and fetching, bounds towards us.

"Drinks? Alcohol? Appetizers?"

"Now and Laters?" The Gryphon holds up a package of "classic" Now and Laters for her to see.

"Oooh, yes! Have any grape ones?" He tears open the package and gives her all the grape flavored ones. She is excited. He watches her but does not smile. He never smiles. She leaves us with more time to decide what we're eating.

"That's the kind of girl you need," I say, "Someone to offset your seriousness."

"Miss Turtle," he says leaning in, "it's better to be a little serious than to cause yourself all kinds of unnecessary sorrow."

"Are we getting on that subject again?"

"Of course, that's why I'm here. Why else would I be sitting here in chaps on a Thursday night at the damn Cheesecake Factory?"

"At least you got to ride on top of the Cable Car again," I say, glaring at the menu.

"Stop pouting and no crying this time," he says.

"I'm NOT pouting and crying," I snap.

"No raising your voice at me either."

I seethe and consider leaving the restaurant but some men at the next table start singing the Barry Manilow song "Mandy" to our server. I look down at the menu and smile a little.

"I used to love Barry Manilow," I say wistfully. The Gryphon just looks at me, that look of disdain on his brow.

"We need to get on with this dinner, Miss Turtle," he says briskly, "Now, you need to relax and stop worrying so much and be thankful for what you have. All this fancy about the end of the world and how bad things are getting just won't do. YOUR wasting a lot of time."

"You spelled YOU'RE wrong," I say stiffly.

"What of it? That adverb there is silly, by the way. You're always stiff on account of your shell. Stephen King would not approve of all these adverbs."

"What about what's-his-name?" I ask.

"YOU'RE pouting again. What about him? Why are you even asking that? Is he here right now at this moment? Then don't worry about him. He's fine where he's at, wherever he is."

"Is? At? Same thing?"

"Yes, sometimes." Gryphon picks up his Ultimate Margarita in his claws, thinks better of it and puts his glass down.

We order, the food comes and we eat in silence. The night is turning a little cool. I start to think the last dialog exchange was the whole point of the dinner but then Gryphon looks at me again.

"Just remember, you are fine where you are. Am I right?"

"Suppose so. What's going to happen next? How will this all turn out? Will anything happen?" I'm getting my trademark tears in my eyes.

"Don't know what's going to happen next. Don't know how it's all going to turn out and something will definitely happen," Gryphon says, "No crying, you heard what I said before about that."

"Piss off, "I say wiping my eyes.

He sighs and holds up a dinner menu. "Dessert?"

"No thank you. I'm going to throw up if I eat very much more. Why is everything so painful sometimes?"

"I've answered that already. You know how it goes. The answer is in front of you at all times. All the things you need to know now. Stuff like that.

"This has turned out to be a tiresome dialog, Mr. Gryphon. I think we need to end it now."

He agrees and we make our way out of the restaurant. I wipe my eyes. "No sorrow?" I ask.

"Not a one," he says, "you know it's true. You keep asking the same questions over and over. It's time to drop them. No answer is forthcoming, at least not in the form YOU'RE hoping for."

A Cable Car stops on our corner. He smiles a little, then I laugh as we run to the Car before it pulls away from the stop.

Triangular

2011-07-09T20:44:00.000-07:00

The love of my life is obsessed with a married woman. We never could see each other clearly.

Every time I hear or even imagine him singing her praises: how beautiful she is, how brainy, the look of wonder and sliced pain on his face every time he talks about how glorious her poetry or paintings are, I feel spite rolling slowly from one side of my chest to the other, my heart providing security the way inflatable bumpers provide cushioning to bowling balls during children's tournaments.

I used to smile wanly at him, but he wouldn't notice my pained eyes because he was too busy staring off into space in the crowded restaurant as radiant pictures of his married love broadcast behind his darker than dark eyes.

One night I broke into the art studio where she paints and spent hours looking at her neatly lined up brushes, her carefully positioned canvases. Even her well used palettes along with works in progress look like they belong in a museum, full of cobalt and silver and orange and rust and mint and rain and summer and ashes and warm wood. I rarely talk to her, but when I do I try to stay with the conversation. It takes a lot of work. It takes a lot of big heartness not to scream and yell at the HAPPY bitch.

For she is happily married with her own family, she talks about cold autumn afternoons, spooning and snuggling. Warm blankets wrapping up precious children. All of that and still she takes the love of my life even if he's content to flit around the edges of her cozy world saying inappropriate things to other people like how he wishes he were married to her instead of her lucky husband. He doesn't care what anyone thinks. And long ago, he decided that I was unworthy of his love, unworthy of his attentions.

And although I was tempted to, I didn't sabotage her paintings or her supplies even though I wanted to very much. Instead, I crawled through the window I'd forced open, landing painfully on harsh concrete. I sprained my ankle and scrapped my left knee in the process. I sat pitifully on the hard, unforgiving ground crying from pain and love, the full moon washing down on my tears.

Two days later, he and I are sitting in the same diner and once again he is talking about how wonderful she is. He doesn't see me. I look hard at him, my tears forming shrink wrap over my eyes, blurring my vision. "Look at me," I think as hard as I can, as hard as when I wished for a pony when I was eight years old. I try to send the thought to him with all the force of a visionary. I try as hard as I can, but he just becomes more blurry.

"She's just so amazing," he's saying, shaking his wonderful blond head. His glasses are sliding slowly down his slightly pink nose. He pushes them up with his index finger, a completely unconscious gesture, then his eyes drop down to his half eaten burger with caramelized onions and cheddar cheese still not seeing anything. "I'm never going to find someone to love. It's been too long, I'm too set in stone," he says.

I think harder and then harder still until I realize the salt shaker on the table is trembling from my thoughts, "I'm here. In front of you. I love you. Look at me. Look at me." The tears spill from my eyes, not that he will ever notice.

***

I wrote this post on March 12, 2007 at 8:34 pm while in the middle of a personal relationship shitstorm. I think I posted it for a few hours before taking it down. I remember at the time being proud of the quality of writing but that it hit too close to home for me to feel comfortable with putting it out in the world. I'm still proud of the writing. Thankfully, the guy wasn't the love of my life though I sincerely believed it at the time. He never did see me properly. Oh well, it's his loss.

Movie Musings: My Approach to Film Surveys

2011-07-07T19:07:00.000-07:00

Now that I've completed two film surveys and am working on a third, I thought it was time to write about how I go about doing them.

First, I'm not doing this for school. When I mention to people that I do film surveys and explain what I'm doing, they always ask if it's for a class. I do this because I get so much out of it and it's really fun. I think it's interesting that many people assume someone engaged in this kind of activity would do so only for school.

Second, I've never taken a film course so I have no idea how an instructor would approach a similar survey. The process I use grew out of my own efforts and I'm assuming an instructor's course would have much more depth, and certainly more information.

All that being said, here's how I go about it.

PICK A SUBJECT MATTER

Sometimes the subject matter is easy. You decide you want to explore a particular director's body of work so that's where you start. Or you decide you want to concentrate on a particular time and place, or even a particular actor.

My first film survey was on Weimar Cinema, films made in Germany from 1920 (The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari) to 1933 (The Testament of Dr. Mabuse). I also watched The Triumph of Will (1935), the notorious Nazi propaganda film as a coda. Choosing my next subject was easy because I really wanted to learn more about Akira Kurosawa and his films. The subject matter for current survey was more difficult. I had the thought that I wanted to concentrate on a European director, perhaps someone who'd made films in the 1940s and 50s, possibly into the 60s, but I was also taken with the idea of focusing on an event or subject matter.

One of my friends did an impressive overview of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. He read a bunch of books, watched films and documentaries, and even read a manga or two about it. I seriously thought of going this route and either following in his footsteps or picking another event. I also thought about other directors and even actors (one of the actors at the top of my list was Vincent Price). In the end, I settled on Spanish director Luis Buñuel. I was fascinated that he'd made so many films in different countries and languages and for his reputation as a surrealist.

I should note that I don't consider my continuing review of South Korean films to be a "survey." For me, film surveys are all about looking back at a particular time and place or a particular person, such as a director. South Korean films are still evolving and maturing. For now, I'm merely a collector.

Once the subject matter has been chosen, it's time to make a list.

THE LIST

A film survey must have a beginning and an end so it's important to make a list of films. I always start on Amazon, believe it or not. I run searches for Listmania! articles ("So you wanna..."). This is how I created my Kurosawa list of films. After reviewing Amazon, I'll run a general Google search and do some reading for recommendations. Yahoo! Answers is another good place to find film recommendations. After I have some idea of what films could be on the list, I'll start reading Wikipedia, Rotten Tomatoes, and IMDB articles about the films. Some films are are a no brainer such as Kurosawa's Seven Samurai or Buñuel's Belle du Jour. Others are less obvious and require some reading to ferret out.

My survey of Weimar Cinema topped out at 14 films. My Kurosawa survey encompassed 16 of his films. When I'm done with Buñuel, I'll have watched 23 of his films. None of these numbers include any "offshoot" or remake films (more on this later).

The next most important thing is to find a book of the films. I found my book on Weimar Cinema at the library. The Films of Akira Kurosawa by Donald Richie was a wonderful book to have on hand. Oddly enough, there isn't such a book for Buñuel's films so I had to do some poking around. I found a book called A Companion to Luis Buñuel which discusses his films and also his life but not film by film. In the end, the best resource I found was Luis' autobiography My Last Sigh. UPDATE: I found a splendid book titled Luis Buñuel: A Critical Biography by Francisco Aranda at a used bookstore in the Mission and paid $8 for it. It has a detailed bio, especially of his childhood, a film by film review, and many of his critical writings about art and films, and some of his surrealist writings. This book, along with My Last Sigh, are my best book companions.

WATCHING THE FILMS AND FILM EXTRAS

If you're lucky, as with all of the Kurosawa films I watched, the film will have been released by the Criterion Collection. Criterion is a company that releases films that have been restored and include excellent extras. I suppose you could consider their approach to be more scholarly. Some of their releases are brilliant, such as my three-disc set of Seven Samurai. It has the best audio commentary I've heard so far along with documentaries, essays, and the like. On the other hand, I was somewhat disappointed to find out that the only Buñuel films released by Criterion were from his Second French period.

I watch the film, all commentaries, and all documentaries. After that, I'll look the film up on Wikipedia, Rotten Tomatoes, and IMDB and read more about it. If I have a book of the films I'll read the relevant section but only after I see the film first.

In the past, I've stopped there but now I log the films in my Master Notebook. Logging is tremendously satisfying. I'll take at least one screenshot, maybe more, give the film my own rating, add factual details, and write a review. In addition to logging, I'll make a note in the survey's diary section in my Master Notebook entitled The State Of My Obsession.

My current survey for Buñuel includes the film log, The State of My Obsession diary section, and a Reading Page. I've been doing a lot of reading related to Buñuel himself, his films, and his friends so I keep track of those activities there. As noted before, I also write articles relating with the survey but I've noticed the articles are slower in coming. I'll definitely do an article about Buñuel and his friends, and will likely do an article about recurring themes in his films: surrealism, his attitudes towards the Bourgeoisie, and religion at some point.

REMAKES AND "OFFSHOOT" FILMS

Many directors, Kurosawa is definitely one of them, inspire others and remakes of their films are made. Depending on the film, I'll sometimes watch a remake for comparison purposes. For the Kurosawa survey, I watched Magnificent Seven, a 1960 western remake of Seven Samurai, and A Fistful of Dollars, an iconic 1964 Spaghetti western remake of Yojimbo. An "offshoot" film is always one by a different director but might explore a similar genre, might even include actors my director likes to use. Or the "offshoot" film is about the director, usually fictionalized in some way. For my Kurosawa film survey, I watched The Sword of Doom, a 1966 Samurai film directed by Kihachi Okamoto and starred Kurosawa regulars Tatsuya Nakadai and Toshiro Mifune. For my Buñuel film survey, I've watched Little Ashes, a fictionalized account of Luis Buñuel, Salvador Dalí, and Federico García Lorca during their university days.

FILM SURVEYS AS JUMPING OFF POINTS

My Buñuel survey has taken me to new places I never anticipated. I've become interested in Paris in the 1920s and have been doing a little exploring in that area. I already have a bit of background from reading Buñuel's autobiography and learning about the Surrealists. It also helps that we have a number of wonderful art exhibits going on here in San Francisco that encourage this kind of exploration: a Picasso exhibit at the DeYoung Musuem, a Steins exhibit at SFMOMA, and an exhibit on Gertrude Stein at the Jewish Contemporary Museum. I might take a bit of time and read one of Hemingway's books (either A Movable Feast or The Sun Also Rises).

CONCLUSION

As you can see, my biggest problem is keeping the survey contained and focused. The other problem is completing the survey in a reasonable time. Both my Kurosawa and Weimar Cinema surveys took years to complete because I wasn't very focused on them. I've already seen 16 of Buñuel's films and am now focusing my efforts on his Second French Period. It's a bit overwhelming to go from doing a survey in a couple of years to doing one in a couple of months. I need to find the right balance for myself.

I'll definitely write a blog post here and there about the survey (here's one I did about Buñuel's First French Period), but these posts tend to be watered down, shortened versions of my Master Notebook log. I have toyed with the thought of starting a separate blog for writing about films and film surveys but I've got too much on my plate to focus on that right now. I may try it later.

This is really fun for me. It never feels like work. The added element of logging the survey and writing essays just makes it that much more wonderful. Plus, I get to flip through my Master Notebook to see the results. So satisfying.

New Self-Portrait

2011-06-25T22:50:00.001-07:00

I had fun manipulating iPhoto to get this picture.
I was going to post this as my profile pic on FB but it doesn't look as good as a thumbnail.

The Job Hunt

2011-06-23T14:21:00.000-07:00

I haven't talked a lot about the job hunt, mostly because I'm used to the situation I'm in. This is the third time I've been without a job in three years and I've been determined to enjoy the extra time. I have done that but as I approach my one year anniversary, I'm feeling a bit of panic setting in.

I have been diligently looking for a job but I keep bumping up against the oddities of this weird economy. First off, I believe the industry I work in, the legal industry, has been permanently altered by this economic downturn. I could be wrong but I don't think so. I don't believe companies are willing to pay the exorbitant fees attorneys have been enjoying in the past and this has manifested itself in the form of lower staff salaries. My biggest disadvantage from what I can tell is I've been working in this field for too long. I have a lot of experience and before everything went to shit that meant a higher salary especially if you have an area of specialty like me. Now it appears employers want a lot of experience (because they're staffing leaner and they need people who can do more) but they don't want to pay for it. I'm fairly certain when I do find a job I will have to take a pay cut. My goal is to minimize the cut as much as possible.

Potential employers have the upper hand, of course, but even they seem to be having trouble finding the right fit for their jobs. I don't know why this is so. Maybe they're relying on the computer to review resumes and pull only the ones with the right "search terms" and the people the computer is coming up with aren't good candidates. I could scoff at this method but the fact is employers are getting hundreds of applications for every job posted and sifting through all that is difficult.

The job market out there resembles a bad dating situation. I've been in at least three situations where I went through several interviews and was told they love me, they want to hire me, etc. and then they pull back at the last possible minute. I'm certain the reason for this is because of my stated salary range. I'm willing to take a pay cut, and I'm willing to negotiate but my recent salary history seems to scare people away before we can even get to that point.

I can't tell you how many times I've been in situations where someone has seen my resume, responded very enthusiastically, I've been told they want to schedule me for an interview, and then...nothing. They decide they don't need someone after all or they have enough candidates already or they've just changed their mind about me. Firms and companies seem to be getting flakier and ruder as time goes on. They keep flip-flopping around and then a month or two later I see the same job position being advertised again. I've discussed this phenomenon with my friends and there are a variety of theories:

They had a position open and wanted to hire for it but the work dried up or something happened with that client. Perhaps a month or two later they finally get the money they need and re-post the position.
They hired the wrong person for the job (probably someone cheaper) and found out how wrong and are back to square one.
They had no intention of hiring someone from the outside. Instead they want to promote someone from within but their policies state they have to post the position and do some interviews.
They have no intention of hiring anybody at all. They just want to do a "market survey" to see how things are out there. This is an incredibly cruel and FUCKED UP thing to do.

Not long ago I was in a situation where I was told I was the only candidate who was qualified for the position, that they really liked me (I come across as a warm person in interviews. I'm a nice person anyway but sometimes it's hard for people to convey that during the stress of an interview), but they had to find more qualified candidates for comparison purposes. That was almost two months ago and I've heard nothing. I've given up following up with them and have been expecting a letter saying "thanks, but no thanks" but haven't even gotten that. What a bunch of rude bastards.

Now when someone says they want to interview I say, "Sure, I'd love to" but I half expect them to flake on me. And when someone says they really want to hire me and think I'd be a great fit for them I say "That's great! I'm really interested in working for you too!" but I don't believe for a second that they're serious. I won't believe it until I'm walking in the door on my first day of work, and the even sadder thing is I probably won't believe it until I've been there for at least six months. Maybe I'll never believe it. Job security seems to be a thing of the past.

The right job will come, the right job will come. My friends keep reminding of this truth, thank God, and I have no choice but to keep moving forward but it does get disheartening at times.

City Life: Positive messages on a chainlink fence in the Mission.

2011-06-22T17:15:00.001-07:00

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City Life: A reproduction of Posada's Calaveras in a sidewalk grating on Valencia in the Mission

2011-06-22T16:53:00.001-07:00

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Writing Life: The Bar

2011-06-18T11:20:00.000-07:00

One of the key settings for the post-apocalyptic novel I drafted during the last November National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) is a bar. The first quarter to third of the novel takes place there. I knew I had to find a real bar to base this setting on but the ones I checked out in San Francisco were all wrong. They were too small, too narrow, and other problems. None of them made sense. I was thinking I might have to grab one of my good friends and go on a serious search through the City to find one.

While in Pioneertown visiting a friend during my Joshua Tree road trip, we stopped at a local bar for a drink before dinner. We were deciding on appetizers and drinks and I kept looking around. The place was really familiar but I couldn't figure out why since I'd never been there before.

It took me a few minutes to realize this is the bar in my novel. I was only familiar with the area where the main bar was and the kitchen was much narrower than in my novel but this is place. The brick walls, extra seating area, small stage area, and bricked in office in the center of the building were all extra details but they're perfect and will change the story for the better. I told my friends I needed to look around so I strolled around and around trying to take in as many details as possible since I'd left my camera in the car. There was a band playing too and I didn't want to retrieve my camera to take flash pictures during the performance. I took note of the floors, the smells, the walls, and the configuration of the place. When we got back to my friend's place for dinner, my friend gave me a brand new notebook to record my notes. You can see some of my notes below:

One of my friends suggested that perhaps the reason I couldn't find a bar in San Francisco is because the story should be set out in the middle of nowhere and not in a city. I told her I was seriously rethinking that idea.

I'm far away from going back to this novel since I'm working on other projects but it feels really good to have found this very important part of the story. And it will change the story quite a bit. The wheels are already turning.

City Life: Marquee for the Roxie Theatre

2011-06-01T22:02:00.001-07:00

This is where i saw the SF Indie Film Festival last Feb. On 16th Street near Valencia in the Mission.

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City Life: Police Station Window

2011-06-01T21:21:00.001-07:00

On Valencia near 17th Street in the Mission.

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City Life: A Rare Payphone in the Mission

2011-06-01T21:14:00.001-07:00

On Valencia near 18th Street.

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Odds and Ends - Another Junk Mail Post

2011-05-18T00:28:00.000-07:00

According to some religious types the end of the world is set to begin this Saturday at 6:00 am. The San Francisco Chronicle posted a FAQ on its website for those who are interested. I'm not one of those religious types, by the way, just fascinated.

For folks who expect to be raptured on Saturday, there's an outfit run by "confirmed atheists" that will take care of your pets. Apparently, business is brisk and they've increased their rates due to the high interest.

****

I watched this week's episode of Doctor Who, The Doctor's Wife by the great Neil Gaiman, with my brother and damn if it didn't make me cry. The storyline was epic, huge, and super satisfying. The official Doctor Who website has a ton of extras including a bunch of Neil related stuff. I just found this stuff less than two minutes ago. I feel like I'm going to faint as my fangirl glee kicks in! (Okay, so maybe I shouldn't have had that soy mocha with no whipped cream this evening. I do feel a bit punched up tonight and it's...12:45 am.)

****

I've been working on a new version of my story FailSafe. The original story is on my other blog Fainting in Coils. I didn't think much of it would change but I just added some new dialogue to one of the chapters and am already thinking of other changes. More importantly, the epic-ness that will become the new Gryphon/Mock Turtle story, Transmogrification, is seriously rolling around in my mind. I'm not sure when I'm going to write that one down but the characters are knocking on the inside of my head which means I'm going to have to write it down very soon. The new FailSafe and Transmogrification will likely be part of an experiment I'm doing in self-publishing.

****

It's another big month for watching plays. A list:

Angels in America: Millenium Approaches - watched twice (hey, it's my favorite play, the tickets were cheap, and it's rarely performed).

Tales of the City, the world premiere of a new musical based on the books by Armistead Maupin. Going to see the first preview tomorrow night.

Three Sisters by Anton Chekhov, put on by Berkeley Rep. This particular production is getting monster reviews. I can't wait.

Little Shop of Horrors, put on by Boxcar Theatre, is going to have several numbers performed outside (on Skid Row). Should be a really cool production. I went to a special event at the Conservatory (the plants, not the music) and two cast members were on hand to sing a few numbers from the show. They were great!

Reborning, a world premiere play put on by SF Playhouse, is getting great reviews. Great cast, fascinating premise.

Lastly, this isn't a play but I'm going to artMRKT on Friday which is a huge event of art galleries from around the world, including the Bay Area and New York City. Should be a lot of fun.

****

I might be getting a job, finally. We'll see. Nothing is for certain until it actually happens. Fingers crossed.

****

If the world ends this weekend, I can say I've been doing all right. As many of you know, my motto is "What the fuck have you done lately?" I have this motto as wallpaper on my phone and look at it all the time. And I ask myself what the fuck have I done lately. For a while now I can say that my answers have been satisfactory. A short list of stuff I'm happy about:

I've written two stories (a short story and a fan fiction) that are the most polished pieces of writing I've done so far. And if the world doesn't end, my writing is only going to get better.
I checked some publishers and realized I could probably get some of my weird blog posts that I've tagged "Surreal Shit" published as prose poems.
I'm working on the third draft of my novel. This puts me in a serious minority. How many people can say they've made it that far? Not many.
I've been to Europe, Zion National Park, and the area around Joshua Tree National Park in the last year.
I've indulged in my obsessions with Fullmetal Alchemist, Luis Bunuel's films, and South Korean Cinema and have been chronicling those obsessions.
I see my family and friends regularly.
I wrote the first draft for my next novel, all 75,000 words of it.
I'm still working with the penguins after 23 years.

It's a wonderful life and a beautiful world. I hope you are all enjoying yourselves. Thanks for reading.

Writing Life: The Value of Critique

2011-05-10T00:40:00.000-07:00

Once again I'm humbled.

I've been hesitant about sharing my writing with other people but when I had my last short story critiqued by my writing group I was amazed. I thought the story was good when I went in but they gave me fantastic suggestions, all of which I incorporated. Their suggestions made the story much better, more moving, and allowed me to really bring out the relationship between the two main characters. I'm now working on sending this story out for publication.

I have another story I've been working on for a while and I sent it to someone to review (or beta as we call it). It's a fan fiction story. Sorry, I won't say anything more than that. Once again, I thought it was in good shape but this person gave me wonderful suggestions for making it better, more accurate, and consistent.

The process of becoming a writer is all about falling in love, stepping out tentatively, gaining confidence, then relearning that you need to be humble. Here's what I mean:

Falling in Love - In order to keep writing you have to fall in love. If you're writing fiction, you start out by falling in love with your story and your characters. This keeps you writing and helps you develop your own style. When you see your own style unfolding, you fall madly in love with your own thoughts and words. As I mentioned before I LOVE reading my own stuff out loud. I love hearing my own words strung together.

Stepping Out Tentatively - In my case, I started out by writing for this blog. I learned that people like my words and I became a much better writer with regular posting. After that, I started going to my writing group and writing fiction regularly. More improvements followed.

Gaining Confidence - After a while, I started thinking that my writing was going well, might even be pretty good. Falling in love starts to spill over into a bit of egoism. A fellow writer explained to me that he thought all writers have to be egotistical to some degree. He's right.

Relearning You Have To Be Humble - It's difficult for me to to let go of my own words. They're safe and I'm already happy with them. Why should I invite somebody else in to take a look? Writing for yourself is good if that's what you want, but your writing can't improve unless you subject it to scrutiny. I was afraid when I had my writing group critique my short story even though I knew they would be gentle about it, but sending my fan fiction story to someone I didn't know scared the hell out of me. Even after I received the comments and verified all of them were excellent, kind, and constructive, I still had a hard time starting the process of reviewing them in detail and making edits. I spent a good deal of time psyching myself out just so I can could open the documents on my desktop. Once I got into it, the process was fun and satisfying.

This process is so humbling. I read and re-read this fan fiction story, made a ton of edits, and did many revisions to get to where I am now. I also spent almost two months reviewing the source material and taking extensive notes since I wanted the story to follow the existing canon. And I felt I was familiar with the source material to begin with! This process was tremendously instructive for my novel writing because I learned that this kind of scrutiny of the characters' back stories is essential. The person who critiqued my fan fiction brought up plot holes I knew about but had not resolved simply because I decided to be lazy about them, made outstanding suggestions to bring the story in line with the source material, pointed out where things weren't clear, asked great questions, and made excellent grammatical and sentence structure suggestions.

I thought I'd done everything I possibly could to make the story the best it could be but I was wrong. It's impossible to catch everything so a second set of eyes is necessary. It makes me wonder about my blog posts. I'm really comfortable with writing, editing, and posting my own stuff but it occurs to me that they could be so much better if someone critiqued them. On the other hand, this is just a blog and the writing isn't supposed to be out of this world.

I keep wondering what the hell I'm going to do when I finally finish the third draft of my novel. It will be in decent enough shape to show it someone for feedback but who am I going to show it to? I'm so intimidated by that idea. So much work and love has gone into these characters and this story and I'm terrified to let someone else see it. Fortunately it will be a little while before I have to really think about that.

my dad's roses

2011-05-08T19:46:00.001-07:00

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Road Trip to the Desert (Joshua Tree): The Pictures

2011-05-02T20:47:00.000-07:00

Near Joshua Tree National Park

We drove to Reno, Nevada then down US 395 to Pioneertown, California, about 10 miles from Joshua Tree National Park, across the 10 freeway near Pasadena, California, up US 5 over the Grapevine in Southern California back to San Francisco.

Current Favorite Self-Portrait of Miss Turtle

2011-05-02T20:29:00.000-07:00

Invisible Marks, Whorls and Fleshed Ridges

2011-04-29T16:15:00.000-07:00

Along the surface of things my fingers trail, leaving invisible marks, whorls and fleshed ridges. I used to wonder if we didn't have our five senses would things cease to exist? Is it possible that our five senses construct things to see, smell, taste, touch, hear?

Not true with others, that's for sure, but if we were alone we would never feel the things we might bump into. Without others there's no one to tell us what the world is like. The world ceases to exist and we are not around, not in any conventional space or time. Things in the world turn to misty transparencies each time we approach something: a desk, a wall, the ground. We float, suspended with not even the darkness to keep us dancing. In the end, we might turn transparent ourselves, devoid of softly padded boundaries, while the underbelly of the surface world pours through us in a riot of strange visions and clandestine energies.

****

One night while slipping in between a state between waking and sleeping, I found myself in a dark place. It was as if I'd slid under my sheet which blotted out everything. Since this was one of those rare times when I knew I was dreaming I desperately wanted to fly away into the starry, foggy night above the city but I couldn't get myself free. I tried willing myself out of that fabric of darkness but had no luck. There was a tickling in my brain, like the recent tickling I felt when I ate fresh ground black pepper in a splendid salad at a dinner party. I felt like those angels in battle who'd been unfortunate enough to be pinned under the great mountains that were thrown on top of them. I realized I wasn't going to get out of that sheeted dark place and reluctantly woke myself up.

There was no getting back to sleep after that.

***

Every once in a great while strange things happen to me that I can't explain. This has been going on since I was a child. Other than the usual obvious childhood experiences such as the times I saw God, was blessed by Jesus, and saw the shadow of Satan on my wall, other things have occurred. (I've never seen an angel, though. Oh wait, maybe I have...hmm, but I can't be sure so I'll just say I haven't.) I used to be able to choose really great books by walking along the stacks in the library and running my fingers over the spines without looking at them. When I stopped, I would pull out the book and read it. It was always amazing. I was reading all the time and it was becoming cumbersome to find really good books so I started using this method to save time. Curiously, this ability faded once I reached puberty.

One time when I was driving down Highway 101 with my ex, we saw a giant tumbleweed coming towards us on the freeway. Now if you've been on 101 you'd know there's absolutely no reason for a tumbleweed to be anywhere near there, much less a tumbleweed larger than the car. The weed bounced over the car and disappeared behind us. At first, I thought it was just my imagination but my ex mentioned he'd seen it too. I never did figure out what was going on there.

There was also that strange time I was walking to McClure's Beach in Point Reyes National Seashore with the same ex. We were walking down a short path from the parking lot to the beach and when I first saw the ocean I had to stop. Something had changed and I couldn't figure out what it was. My ex inquired as to my reason for stopping but I ignored him. I continued to stare at the crashing surf and a real panic was growing inside me. Something was terribly wrong. I realized the sound of the surf and the actual surf were off by a few moments. As soon as I figured out this sound delay I became incredibly nauseous and almost threw up. I had to look away from water and when I looked at it again everything was fine and I no longer felt sick. This feeling seemed to be tied to the place I was standing in so I spent a few minutes walking back and forth along the path but couldn't recapture that feeling again.

****

It's probably nothing but most of the clocks in my apartment don't work. My clock radio is always off by 15 minutes no matter what I do (replace battery, check the plug). The previous clock was also off by 15 minutes which prompted me to get the current one. Any clock I put in the bathroom always stops working even the clocks designed to stick to your bathroom mirror. The wall clock here in the living room doesn't work. It's always slowing down until it's off by about 20 minutes. It doesn't matter how many times I change the battery. It doesn't matter how many clocks I replace it with (the current clock is the third one I've tried; I even tried an atomic clock once). Once the current clock stopped working completely I just left it on the wall permanently set to 9:46:44. The two watches I use the most work though I've noticed all my other watches seem to have stopped working prematurely. I even took a couple to have the batteries replaced but they wouldn't start up again. The computer, phone, and tablet clocks are working well, thank goodness.

It occurs to me there's a story in here somewhere.

****

I can tell when the bus is going to come and from which direction. The bus can come from two different directions on my corner and I started out by guessing which direction as a way to pass the time. I learned quickly that if I let myself settle and stopped thinking about it, I could feel which direction the bus was coming in and whether it was coming soon, right way, or in a while. Anybody who rides MUNI knows how unpredictable the buses can be so this odd game has proven to be useful. My accuracy rate is better 90% at this point.

I've thought about attempting a similar game with lottery tickets, dice, card games, or roulette but haven't had the time to try it out.

****

Years ago, I had boyfriend where odd things seemed happen more often than usual. There were the times I checked his blog and for a moment I would see the shimmering ghost of a blog post about trains that he wouldn't post until a good two weeks later. Why that post? I'm not sure but he did mention me in it so maybe that was the reason. I'd also sent an email to a different guy before I started seeing this boyfriend where I talked about moats and inferiority complexes. It was a sarcastic reply to a mean email he'd sent me and I'd sent it to the guy before meeting this boyfriend. Later, while checking my boyfriend's blog I found an old post of his where he discusses inferiority complexes and moats in almost the sarcastic same way. There were other things but they're too weird to even post here. Needless to say because of these odd things I was convinced that we were right for each other.

That was a bad call.

(Someone is practicing scales on a tuba in an apartment on my street. It's the first time I've heard it. Seems appropriate for this post and my state of mind today.)

****

During the worst part of my divorce (the first two weeks), very strange things would happen. I kept hearing things falling and dropping in other rooms in the house. I knew these sounds were happening because the dogs would look up too. Sometimes when I went to see what had fallen I wouldn't find anything. Other times I'd find something on the floor that had no business being there. I was in a very bad state, almost suicidal, and not eating or sleeping. I realized after the first few days that I was probably imagining these things falling though the scary thought occurred to me that perhaps I was causing things to fall because of my whacked out state of mind.

I've had two concrete encounters with ghosts though I've never actually seen one. There have been other similar kinds of situations though they've been too vague to explain. All in all, I don't take these odd things very seriously. They don't happen very often (except the bus thing) and are probably explained away by something perfectly rational. Still, I do believe there are things in this world that we just don't understand and so many things are happening below the surface that I can't ignore it.

city life: a wall near 24th and valencia-the mission

2011-04-27T17:10:00.001-07:00

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city life: "the greenest thing you could possibly do is hang yourself from a fucking tree"

2011-04-27T17:06:00.001-07:00

Same wall in the Mission near 24th and Valencia.

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City Life: Along the Embarcadero, Part 2 (Ferry Building to Fisherman's Wharf)

2011-04-26T15:37:00.000-07:00

Continuing my post of The Embarcadero (Part 1), I walked from the Ferry Building to Fisherman's Wharf earlier this month.

The walk from the Ferry Building (A) to Fisherman's Wharf (B) is 1.8 miles.

I strolled on the nice walkway on Pier 3 and got this shot of the Ferry Building. People like to come here at lunchtime to stretch out on the benches and read.

Back on The Embarcadero looking towards Fisherman's Wharf. Along here is a stretch of expensive restaurants and more moderately priced bars.

A street sign at Broadway.

I've never tasted chocolate here but I couldn't resist the sign.
I'll have to go back later and check it out.

Alcatraz!! Alcatraz Landing is located at Pier 33 and is where you purchase tickets and depart on tours. The island is only accessible by ferry. I only go there when I have guests but it's a fascinating tour and highly recommended. The cellhouse audio tour is excellent and really brings the place to life.

Ah yes, the parking. Parking near Pier 39 and Fisherman's Wharf is expensive and can be difficult so plan accordingly.

Approaching Pier 39 and Fisherman's Wharf brings a change in smells. Right about here you can smell cotton candy. As you closer to the Wharf, this can change to the overwhelming smell of crab and fish, depending on the time of day (usually in the morning and early afternoon).

We locals consider Pier 39 and Fisherman's Wharf the great tourist traps of our city. I generally don't come down here myself but they are must-see places according to all the tour books.

There's an aquarium here (not the one I volunteer at). I have to confess I've never visited but lots of people do and enjoy it. It's a small aquarium but focuses on the marine life in our San Francisco Bay.

Pier 39 is a full of gift shops, restaurants, and other places to eat.

You gotta love a two-story carousel that plays Gershwin. The carousel is located near the end of Pier 39 as are the world famous Pier 39 California Sea Lions.

In September 1989, our California Sea Lions started hauling out at end of the pier. You can see them piled on each other and you'll hear there barking as you approach. The Marine Mammal Center folks are here to provide information and answer questions. They have a shop upstairs above where the seals are.

At the end of Pier 39 are lovely views of Alcatraz.
You can see it was a windy day when I snapped this picture.

Fisherman's Wharf is located at Pier 43 or thereabouts. There are plenty of restaurants, places to eat on the run, the Wax Museum, Ripley's Believe It Or Not, gift shops, street musicians, In-and-Out Burger, and The Cannery, a sort of gift shop mini-mall.

If you keep walking past the Cannery and cross the street you'll come to this lovely park. There's a lovely lawn and a beach at the other end. It's a nice place to have lunch and take a stroll if it's not too crowded or windy.

As you can see Ghirardelli Square is right at the top of the park. I've been known to come here on rare occasions with friends for lunch. Ghirardelli is full of shops and restaurants. If you go, be sure to check out the famous chocolate shop.

I completely forgot this lovely Bay beach was located here.

Above the beach are concrete bleachers if you don't want to sit on sand.

I walked back the way I came to the Ferry Building and stopped at the park next to Justin Hermann Plaza where I was attracted by the raucous cries of our parrots. Yes, we have parrots here in San Francisco. Apparently, they are strays that got away and have grown into an impressive flock. You would think it's too cold for them but they don't seem to mind.

I've blogged about the parrots before on this blog but I didn't have a 10x zoom camera at the time so I wanted to post a decent picture.

This ends my posts about The Embarcadero. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm planning to do more neighborhood posts in the future.

Thanks for reading.

City Life: Sunset Outside My Apartment Door

2011-04-26T13:57:00.001-07:00

Looking towards the Pacific Ocean. Taken April 8, 2011

el dorado casino in reno, nevada

2011-04-20T18:36:00.001-07:00

Cheesy!

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A Kind of Subatomic Musical Chairs

2011-04-13T14:01:00.000-07:00

The days and nights flutter by like crisp $100 bills blown by wind through the concrete and steel canyons. I keep wondering where the time goes but have now realized it seeps into the pores of my skin through my blood, bones, and organs, exiting the other side. I am just a sieve, a through way for that the giant wall of water known as Time.

Stuff happens but Time is still in my own mind. This is how we can get around Time, by keeping it in our own heads. We do it in our dreams every night, don't we? My dreams are all nanoseconds and epic generations of stories. Hundreds of years go by in a single dream, my thoughts running to catch up. I grasp at those loose dark veils which trail behind, all pageantry and bridal echoes. I never see the face hidden behind the layers of black lace and sheers. When I have the opportunity, I draw away from there. I don't want to see.

The traffic of my projects zoom by me on this congested road. Everyone is going more than 80 miles an hour but they're following too close. I think a crash must be imminent but there's no rain, not even a bump in the road, to interrupt progress. Again, I'm barely able to keep up. It seems my interests have taken on a life of their own, they seem to be stretching out new muscles, but they know they have to wait for me because I'm their conduit, their channel. Nothing happens until I literally make it so. Until then it's all a massive, incoherent stew.

Unreality and reality are separated by the thin membrane which separates my internal and external selves but I know that wall is just an illusion, something the brain makes up to keep track of everything. This should scare me but it doesn't for I know everything has its place even though it would be just as happy switching positions, playing a kind of subatomic musical chairs. When you have order vs. chaos, many times the order wins. The only reason this happens is because we make it so. Order, like that thin membrane, is just a mental construct, an evolutionary survival mechanism.

I wish I could frisk like any other self-serving person but I'm too painfully aware of my limitations. I've too much narrowness in my vision of things. Too little expansion of mind. No matter how much I fill my head with neat things, it's never enough. I'm surrounded by others who dance in ritual, holding hands, inviting me into that idyllic pastel landscape. They say letting go is the best thing all around. I still doubt them.

the pink church, the pacific ocean, golden gate park

2011-04-08T08:59:00.001-07:00

Happened to glance out my window and today the view to the ocean is true and clear

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New Toy, er, Netbook Replacement

2011-04-07T00:25:00.001-07:00

*chortle*

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another pic from the conservatory

2011-04-06T21:04:00.001-07:00

I posted the wrong one

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the conservatory of flowers in golden gate park

2011-04-06T21:01:00.001-07:00

For a special nite reception. Aquatic plants gallery

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2010 Europe Trip: Research For My Novel - Nuremberg

2011-04-05T16:00:00.000-07:00

The main reason I went to Europe last year was to do research for my historical novel. It's set in Nuremberg in the 1830s and is based on the true story of Kaspar Hauser, a young man who wandered into town one day. He appeared to not understand anything around him, including what people were saying. Eventually he was taken to the jail tower, then was taken in by a doctor who examined and educated him. Kasper said he had been kept in a cell for most of his life and had never been outdoors nor did he have interactions with anyone else, other than minimal contact with his jailer. The day he wandered into town he'd been released with no explanations.

That's all I'll say about him for now. You can click on the link if you want more info. As I said my story is based on him but I'm taking quite a few liberties with my novel though it generally follows most of the major events of his later life.

I spent all my time in the Altstadt (or old town) in the historic city center. Nuremberg was heavily bombed during the war and was subsequently rebuilt using the same building materials. The Altstadt is surrounded by a wall with the Kaiserburg (Nuremberg Castle) at the north end.

Of course Nuremberg is known for being the site of the Nuremberg trials and the infamous Nazi conventions and rallies. I made it a point to learn about Nazi Germany before my visit because I was concerned I would become distracted by this infamous history and wanted to be able to focus solely on my research.

I decided on some goals for this visit:

Learn about the history of the city (before the 1830s and until 1871 when the unification of Germany occurred).
Spend a lot of time walking around and getting a good feel for the place.
Find a house. Much of my novel takes place inside a house. Kasper lived in a different house at the time when my story takes place so I'm taking liberties here.
Find the location for a pivotal outdoors scene, what I've dubbed "The Walk in the Snow."
Find the location of where he came into the city and the place where he was found and attempt to retrace his steps.

I took over a thousand pictures and and something like seven short videos. More than 700 of the pictures and all of the video were taken for research purposes in Nuremberg and Ansbach.

A map of the Altstadt. These maps are all over the historic city center and are very useful for staying oriented even if they're all in German. The Altstadt is quite a small area, you can walk from one end to the other in less than an hour.

I started by walking to the Kaiserburg and taking a slow walk around the Castle. The weather was gorgeous while I was there, even a bit warmer than I'd planned for, and encouraged a leisurely pace.

The gardens behind the Kaiserburg. I had originally thought my "Walk in the Snow" scene would take place somewhere along here.

Part of the Gardens.

As I walked along taking pictures, I realized I was having problems with the idea of this scene happening here. First, I didn't know what kind of access mere mortals would have to these places even if they were well-connected, and secondly, the scene is a conversation between Kasper and his servant. It requires quiet and privacy and I didn't know if that would be possible in this place. It felt too public to me.

I was going to sign up for a tour of the inside of the Castle but realized it wouldn't be necessary since there are no scenes there. I decided it would be far more important for me to climb the stairs of the Sinwell Tower (jail tower) where I believe Kasper was kept when he first arrived in the city.

After wandering around and taking more pictures I stopped at Albrecht Dürer's House, a very popular museum across the street from the Castle. Dürer is one of Nuremberg's most famous sons and was a brilliant artist. I like to refer to him as the rock star of Northern Renaissance art. As I took the audio tour I wondered if I'd found my house but it just didn't feel right.

One of the lovely rooms in Dürer's house.

One of the defining characteristics of the house in my novel is it has to be large. Only three men are living there, not including the servants, but multiple floors and at least two sets of staircases are critical. It's difficult to explain why this is so since there's no practical reason for it but the psychological effect of living in such a house is very important for the characters and Dürer's house felt too cramped to me.

As part of my research on the city's history I walked to Fembo House, not far from the Kasierburg, a historic house which is also the city museum.

Fembo House from the front.

I learned a lot about the city's history and, most important, I'd found the house for my novel. The tour starts on the top floor and there were only two couples around. They left the floor very quickly and I slowly strolled through the rooms taking in all the exhibits and reading each sign carefully. When I was done with the exhibits I continued strolling around and around the floor going in and out of the rooms. I was letting the feel of the top floor sink in, listening to the sound of my steps, noting the air temperatures, and how the light looks in the rooms. I found out later that the top floor is where the servants live and where storage is kept. I was really happy I took so much time up there.

This room on the floor below was used as a ballroom during parties. It has its own dining room outside the door and there's a small kitchen behind me.

The first thing I noticed when I walked down to the next floor is the ceilings are quite a bit lower than we're used to and the doorways are low. This is important. Two of my characters are fairly tall, including one of my main characters. His notable physical characteristics includes his height, his posture, and the way he moves through space. He tends to be calm and has a certain grace about the way he moves, and he has perfect posture. In order for these characteristics to work, I can't have him awkwardly trying to get the through the doorway because they are too low so he can't be very tall. My other character is more secondary and it would actually make sense if he were a bit awkwardly tall, at least for this house.

The floors are creaky, you make noise wherever you walk. This is very important because this means you can hear someone coming even if you can't see them, even if it's too dark in the room.

As required, this house has two sets of stairs. I love these back stairs. I spent a lot of time walking up and down to get a feel for them. I should have taken some video.

More rooms on the floor below. I learned quite a bit about the layout of this style of architecture though I don't learn what the style is called. I need to do more research about that.

This model of a house with similar architecture was very useful for visualizing the house as a whole though this version is larger than Fembo House. Ground floor is the entrance hall, first floor are the bedrooms, second floor are the best rooms in the house, rooms for greeting guests, etc., the third floor is where the ballroom is located, fourth floor, only a section of the floor, houses the servants.

Fembo House is located next to other buildings and narrow winding cobblestone streets so there's no garden or stables. There is a courtyard as you can see in the picture above. Not having a garden meant I would have to do some tweaking of scenes during my next rewrite but not having stables and horses was a problem. One of my favorite secondary characters is the Stable Master. I thought about changing his occupation but it just wasn't working. The man was practically born to ride and take care of horses. The smell of horse is seeped into his bones, and the way he walks and his outlook on life points towards his occupation. I knew I had to come up with another idea. Fortunately, the Imperial Stables are right up the street and I knew they would have rented a space there.

This brochure about Fembo House is in German but is extremely useful. You can see my notes on the layout of the floors. There are good photos of the rooms too.

I visited another house later that day, Tucher Mansion, and it has similar architecture though on a much grander scale. The English version of their brochure is very short, only a few pages, and has no pictures but it gives a detailed layout of the different floors and how they were used.

I was going to go back to Fembo House the next day but didn't. I should have so I could have taken more pictures and walked around some more.

I had several maps of Nuremberg but used this one since it was the most detailed for my purposes. I used this map to figure out the route Kasper took when he first arrived in the city and to understand where Fembo House (no. 14 on the map) was in relation to the main square.

Fembo House is located right down the street from the Hauptmarkt, the Alstadt's largest square. There are farmers markets there most days, as there have been for centuries. Since coming back from my trip I've revised some of my scenes so they take place here.

The view of the street from the first floor of Fembo House looking towards the Hauptmarkt. The Town Hall, with the flags, is on the left side.

The Hauptmarkt, also the site of the world famous Christmas Markets.

I was happy I'd found the house but still hadn't found the site for my "Walk in the Snow" scene. I'd decided to find the square Kasper was found in (and it wasn't the Hauptmarkt like I originally thought) and attempt to retrace the path he took to get there.

Kasper came in through the Neutor, or the New Tower Gate. There are Baroque Gardens right across the street, and I thought perhaps I would go there to see if my "Walk in the Snow" scene could take place there but I found something much, much better.

A view of the Gate from the outside looking into the Altstadt.

I walked along the top of the city wall behind the Gate which is really nice. Lots of shady trees, places to sit, and a mini-garden. Most of Nuremberg is surrounded by the huge, beautiful wall and I think you can walk along parts of it.

The lovely garden. When I stepped into this sweet little place I knew I'd found the setting for this very important scene.

A view of the Garden looking at Neutor. This place is important for my characterization of Kasper. It's where he first entered the city and he feels a kind of kinship with this place.

The view looking down from the little garden looking towards the Kaiserburg.

I started to wonder if my walk in the snow actually takes place in the snow. According to my current timeline the earliest the walk can take place is sometime in late October, maybe early November, and I don't think it's snowing yet. I'll have to check the historical weather records. The snow isn't that important but it would make the atmosphere a little more magical.

So why go through all this? Why bother going all the way to Europe to do research on a novel that might never get published? And why bother looking for a real house to set the story in? Wouldn't it be easier to make all this up? The answer for me is no, it's not easier. True, I have a good imagination, and I could say I'm doing this because this story is based on a real person but I'm certain that I would do the same thing with all my stories if I could whether they're based on history or not. The reason is because I'm too locked into my own mindset and I make too many narrow assumptions about what a place could and should be like. The original draft of this novel was also set in a large house but the architecture was completely different and not even close to accurate. This has a profound affect on the story and the characters. Finding real places to base my settings on helps me go deeper into the story world.

Also, I've noticed when I write a story my characters and their relationship to the space around them and the setting is very important because it affects how they are. Because most of the novel takes place inside the house this is doubly true. Even many of my settings in my strange story on my Fainting in Coils blog, FailSafe, were based on real places.

I'm very happy I'd found what I was looking for on this visit. I was in Nuremberg for three days and spent all my time strolling around the Altstadt. I took a side trip to Ansbach, about 30 km away. This small town is the setting for the last part of my novel. The point was to get to know these towns and I felt I did just that. I'd really like to go back to Nuremberg in December during the Christmas Market for a couple of days and then spend at least 2-3 days in Ansbach again.

City Life: The Pink Church at Dawn

2011-04-03T16:16:00.000-07:00

Around 6:15 this morning.

Late March Junk Mail

2011-04-02T17:53:00.000-07:00

Here's what's happening with me:

Sleep, that warm fluffy fox, remains elusive. I haven't been sleeping since I put my dog down. Most days I average between 3-5 hours a night. I get up in the late morning and fuel myself with tall soy mochas with no whipped cream, then feel wired and jittery until the late afternoon. Many times I'm hopped up on caffeine, lots of sugar, and not much food. I don't take drugs or drink when I'm feeling this way (except the caffeine or sugar) but believe me, I've been considering it.

I'm back into writing fiction, thank goodness. I'm still working on my historical novel and have been trying to go to my writing group at least once a week. The writing group, Shut Up & Write at meetup.org, has been invaluable. The more I go, the more productive I am.

Current projects which should come as no surprise to anyone reading this blog: logging all the Korean films I've seen so far in my Master Notebook (I'm more than halfway through the list), logging all the films I watched for the Akira Kurosawa film survey, gleefully frolicking my way through the TV anime series Fullmetal Alchemist (I'm still watching the 2003 series, though I've made it to the second season), reading the plays of Federico Garcia Lorca (I've read three so far and will be reading more later when I receive the books from Amazon), continuing to learn about Luis, Dali, and Lorca's relationship for my Luis Bunuel film survey, and I finally finished reading Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card.

Regarding Ender's Game. I grew up reading Card's short stories but never read his novels. This one, Ender's Game, is a classic and its reputation for being brilliant is well deserved. I keep wondering what the hell is wrong with me, though. I don't understand why it's taken me this long to get around to reading it. What is my problem?

I'm done with my History of European Art DVD lectures. It's taken a while (a total of 48 lectures at 30 minutes a pop) but it's been a wonderful overview. My next set of DVD lectures will be about The Long 19th Century, history of Europe between the late 1700s to the early 20th Century.

I'm still not going to regular movies as a way to save money (except I Saw The Devil, see recent post). I've found there are very few films I need to see on the big screen though I love the cinematic experience. There's a ton of movies I haven't seen yet, including many Oscar films.

As I've mentioned to a couple of my friends I worry that I'm overloading myself with all this brain food. I do need fuel for writing and engaging in all these different interests really makes me happy but I worry about it all the same.

I'm attempting to try out a self-publishing model using my weird story FailSafe as an experiment. This will entail setting up my own website, creating a pdf of the story, writing additional side stories, and getting FailSafe into hard copy. It's been a slow start, mostly research on what others have done, but I'm looking forward to seeing how it goes. The point is not to sell FailSafe but to go through and learn from the process. I may ask a couple of you good readers to take a look at and comment on the website, pdf, hard copy, etc.

I still don't have a job but I'm looking for one. Blah, blah, blah.

a beautiful "painted lady" victorian house in the haight

2011-03-30T18:43:00.001-07:00

The area we call the haight includes the famous haight/ashbury intersection.

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in the community garden down the street from where i live

2011-03-30T17:20:00.001-07:00

It's 70 degrees right now and it feels like a sweet, tender miracle.

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Movie Musings: I Saw The Devil (Akmareul boattda)

2011-03-26T01:30:00.000-07:00

Soo-hyun (Lee Byung-hun) and Kyung-chul (Choi Min-sik)
are working through some serious issues together.

This is a 2010 Korean film by one of my favorite directors Kim Ji-woon, who also directed excellent films like A Bittersweet Life, A Tale of Two Sisters, and The Good, The Bad, and The Weird. I'd heard of this film but hadn't looked very closely into it. Imagine my excitement when I read it was showing locally. I managed to catch it on the last day it was playing at Lumiere Theater here in SF.

THE FILM

The first thing you need to know is this is one of the most violent films I've ever seen. They're marketing it as a horror film but it's not. I understand why they went this route because it's the only way to prepare the audience the extreme level of graphic violence. The word "extreme" is used far too often but it's completely appropriate here.

No, this isn't a horror film, rather it's a revenge tale. A secret agent's wife is dismembered and murdered by a serial killer. Sometimes we hear people in movies (or in real life) say that death is too good for someone. This film takes that idea and pushes it past any sane person's limits.

The film stars two of my favorite Korean actors: Lee Byung-hun is Kim Soo-hyun, our avenging secret agent, and Choi Min-sik is Jang Kyung-chul, our serial killer. Lee's Soo-hyun is stoic and efficient and seems to get even more so as time goes on. He's keeping it all in, everything he feels, and he willingly walks on his chosen path of an eye for an eye. Choi's Kyung-chul is a monster. His insanity and blood lust are almost casual and are so much a part of him that it appears to be as natural as breathing. Both actors are great in their roles but Choi is unbelievable. It's my opinion that Choi is South Korea's best actor and we really see it here. This character might be up there as one of the greatest villains to grace the screen.

These two characters really face off with each other. Neither of them refuse to yield so you have these two immovable forces hurtling at each other like two trains.

THE VIOLENCE

There's a lot of violence and gore in this film and it's relentless, very graphic, and sickening. There's very little gun violence. Choi Min-sik is probably best known for his amazing role in Oldboy. Oldboy is violent as well but nothing like this. Choi's use of a hammer during the brilliant hallway sequence in Oldboy has become an iconic image, of sorts. He uses many hammers, knives, and other blunt and sharp objects during this film and uses them over and over. People in the audience kept reacting out loud to the violence: gasping, groaning, mumbling things like "do they have to show that?" I didn't see anybody leave but I was sitting closest to the screen. I wouldn't be surprised if a couple of people walked out.

Of course, this film is beautifully shot and scored. The sound is...both sickening and amazing. We would expect nothing less from our esteemed director. Mr. Kim was required to make certain cuts otherwise it would have been difficult to show this film in Korea. I'm looking forward to a director's cut with all the accompanying extras this film will surely have.

MULTIPLE VIEWINGS

So I saw this film last Thursday night at Lumiere Theater and it clocked in at 144 minutes. I decided to see it again at Opera Plaza Cinemas on Van Ness on Sunday night and they cut about 20 minutes from the film! What the FUCK? I can't think of any reason why they did that. They cut an entire scene, the scene in the doctor's office. This scene is important because it's here you begin to understand what Soo-hyun is doing because it's more than just find the bad guy and then kill him. Also, it provides the explanation for why Kyung-chul is limping for the rest of the film. I've looked around for some kind of explanation for the shorter running time but haven't found one. I guess I should be glad I got to see the long version.

CONCLUSION

I really loved this film though I can't recommend it to anyone because of the violence. There are no heroes in this movie; it's not cool or awesome in any way. It's certainly not satisfying the way some revenge movies are. This is a film about destruction but it also has a kind of purity about it because it's gloriously uncompromising: The camera will not look away. It's supposed to be about what happens when someone goes down that black, bloody road known as revenge but this moral question becomes irrelevant after a while. This film is great because everyone knows what happens at the end of such an endeavor and the characters and director allow us to go there with them without trying to shield us from that awful place. Magnificent.

Writing Life: Dry

2011-03-19T15:18:00.000-07:00

Time doesn't stop, the grains of sand keep slipping through old wavy glass. Desert wind blows, parching everything in its wake. I think to myself that I have so many ideas, whole universes of ideas, and they crowd round for the front row seats of my awareness yet on some days I'm dry as a bone and can't think of what to put down on the screen.

Stuff percolates underneath this bloodless surface fighting for exposure while I sit here at the keyboard waiting. What to write? What to write?

****

I don't usually experience writer's block but having decided to post regularly makes it difficult to come up with things to write about. Thankfully, this blog could be about anything but sometimes I wonder if it would be easier to come up with original content if I was just writing about movies, for example. The problem is I know I'd get bored quickly.

The biggest problem I'm having is it's necessary for me to stay focused on whatever interests/projects I have going on at any given time so it's difficult for me to think outside of those interests/projects. Blogging forces me to consider other ideas and other subjects to write about. This is good but somewhat uncomfortable since my mind really likes to stick with whatever has captured its attention.

You might think taking pictures would be an easy way around this dilemma. It can be but taking pictures requires effort as well. It requires me to leave my apartment and walk around. It requires enough focus to get into the "picture taking mode." Of course, carrying my camera around with me all time like I used to would make this process more natural.

When I first started blogging I had plenty to write about and posted almost everyday for a while. At the time blogging was my primary form of writing. Now I'm spending most of my time writing fiction and writing about my interests/obsessions as well as blogging. I'm still getting used to making this transition from one area of writing focus to three. I wonder if I can sustain this level of daily writing. I guess I'll find out soon enough.

Huh. I hadn't thought about shifting my focus from one form of writing to three until just a few minutes ago when I wrote the previous paragraph. This is interesting. I guess the challenge will be trying to figure out how to sustain such schedule without burning myself out. It's a good thing I have great endurance for writing but now it's clear I'm going to have to find out what else I need to do to keep this up.

my old friend T-Rex at the california academy of sciences

2011-03-18T11:42:00.001-07:00

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The Master Notebook and the State of My Obsession

2011-03-16T14:33:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite programs is Circus Ponies Notebook. It's a note taking program which allows you to store text, pdfs, images, links, video, etc. You can also do outlines and to do lists, and it has a powerful search engine and clipping service. There are also sticky notes and flags you can affix to a page and you can change the look of the pages to lined, grid, etc. It's called Notebook because the interface looks like a three ring binder with tabs, dividers, and the like. That's all I'll say about its features. If you want to know more, check out the link there to its official website.

People use Notebook for many different things. Students use it, of course. Apparently, trial lawyers use it to create their trial notebooks. I used to dump things in it here and there and made random notes. Now I use it as a record of my various interests and obsessions. I call it my Master Notebook.

I get interested in certain subjects and tend to go all out with them as you might have noticed. Before I started using Notebook regularly I'd get interested in a subject matter, learn all about it, then move on. I almost never saved the information I learned and certainly didn't write about it unless I did a blog post. Yet I loved all the things I was learning and decided it was time to start creating records of my interests.

I'll start with my great interest in South Korean Cinema. Korean films are now my favorite film genre and my favorite actor is Korean. I've seen over 30 films so far and own a total of 17. I've started logging all the Korean films I've seen. I also have a page of Films Seen But Not Worth Logging. There are about six films on this list. It took me several hours one day to make the list of all the films but it was worth it.

A screenshot of the South Korean Cinema Table of Contents.

I have a four star rating system and will be putting the films in rating order. I prefer to use the Cornell Notes page style which Notebook allows you to choose as an option. The left side of the page includes director, year released, actors, the rating system, any short factual notes, and a summary of the story. It also notes whether I own it and when I saw it if I have that information. The right side is a photo from the film. The bottom is my review.

I'll also write any appropriate commentaries related to the subject matter. There's almost always a commentary entitled "How I Arrived at this Place and the State of My Obsession." This commentary discusses how I got interested in the particular subject matter and my personal history with it.

Eventually, I'll add an commentary about Song Kang-ho, my favorite actor and Park Chan-wook, my favorite Korean director. I'm certain I'll add additional articles about other directors, definitely Bong Joon-ho is at the top of that list. "The State of My Obsession" section is a kind of ongoing journal of notes with particular emphasis on the high level of interest I have in the subject matter.

I'll be going back to my first two film surveys of Akira Kurosawa films and Weimar Cinema and adding them to the Notebook. I'm planning to write a commentary about Kurosawa and three of the major actors he worked with (Toshiro Mifune, Takashi Shimura, and Tatsuya Nakadai). I'm also going to do a commentary entitled Fritz Lang and the Maverick Filmmaker for my Weimar Cinema survey. My only regret is that I didn't start this Notebook sooner. It would have so lovely to have notes and a log of these surveys as I went along.

Of course, I'm logging all the films for my Luis Bunuel survey as I go along with any commentaries that occur to me.

A screenshot of my Un Chien Andalou page using the Cornell Page style.

When I was attending the SF IndieFest I made sure to take good notes of the 16 films I saw. I didn't use the Cornell Note format for those notes. At the end I turned the part of the notes into blog post I did here.

The Master Notebook houses my current, all-consuming obsession with Fullmetal Alchemist or FMA. FMA is a manga by Hiromu Arakawa. I found FMA because I became interested in anime TV series and wanted to check some out. After doing some searches I decided to start with FMA because it was consistently ranked in the top five on almost every top 10 list of TV anime series I found. The idea was I'd add the entire series to my Netflix queue and watch the first two discs. By the time I got to the second disc and episode 7, I was completely hooked. The amount of media associated with this manga is impressive. In addition to the TV series with 51 episodes, there's a remake TV series of 61 episodes. There are movies and OVAs, not to mention the manga I haven't read yet. There are currently 24 volumes of the manga.

A screenshot of my summary of episodes from FMA Season One of the 2003 Series. Sure, Wikipedia and other websites have summaries but I prefer to do my own (this screenshot contains spoilers!)

One of my favorite pages from the Notebook is the "How I Arrived at this Place and the State of My Obsession" page for FMA. I love, love this page. The way I take my notes makes me sound like some starstruck teenager. It's badass.

Dates are very important in my notebook. I'm trying to record as accurately as possible when I see and do things. And pictures! They really add to the pleasure of flipping through the pages.

I usually open my Master Notebook first thing when I wake up my computer even before I check my email. I tend to leave it open all day long. I tell myself it's so I can just dump things into as I go along but the real reason is I like to stop for a few minutes here and there to flip through it or edit a page. I get so much pleasure looking through it.

I don't plan to share much of this information with anybody. All of this effort is for me and merely an extension of what I already do anyway. The only difference is I have a place to make notes and a format to put it in. As many of you know, I don't watch television and I spend a lot of time on the web looking up and learning new things. This Notebook provides me with focus and a depository for all that.

I love this thing. I just want to give it a big hug.

City Life: Along The Embarcadero, Part 1 (Ballpark to Ferry Building)

2011-03-09T22:15:00.000-08:00

The Embarcadero is a street that stretches from the end of China Basin where the Giants Ballpark is located all the way past Fisherman's Wharf. It runs right along the San Francisco Bay. Though I've taken plenty of pictures here, particularly of the Bay Bridge at night, I thought I'd do a little neighborhood walk for you all. According to Google Maps, it's about a 1.4 mile walk from the Ballpark to the Ferry Building.

B is where I started at the Ballpark. A is where I ended at the Ferry Building.

The home of our World Champion Giants

I've only been to a few games here but the ballpark is beautiful and right on the water. There are plenty of bars and restaurants in this area, not surprising. Sometimes it gets a little chilly during night games. The train station (Caltrain) is almost right across the street from the Ballpark, on the other side of The Embarcadero. There's a MUNI stop right in front of the stadium. Take the N Judah or T Third Street going Inbound (towards downtown).

Sorry I couldn't resist!

I took this walkway behind the Ballpark since it's right on the water. The small but historic Third Street Bridge is located directly behind me in this picture. This stretch of water is called McCovey Cove though it's official name is China Basin. On game days, small boats and kayaks hang around in case there's a fly ball to catch.

One of the many amenities at the Ballpark is this Waterfront Promenade (a little further down on the left side in the previous picture of the walkway) where people can stand and watch games for free. I think they clear the place out after every inning and the view is somewhat obstructed but you can still see what's going on.

This is a fishing pier at South Beach Harbor. As you can see it's located behind the Ballpark. You can walk all the way out and look out at the Bay.

The Harbor.

Continuing on in the direction of the Bay Bridge. It was very quiet when I was here (last Monday). Many times there are tons of people walking, biking, running, and on game days it's packed. The Playground is located on the left side of the walkway there (see below).

As you can it was a beautiful day in San Francisco last Monday. It's been raining the rest of the week. That street is The Embarcadero.

Cheap parking! We're close to the Financial District. As we get closer the parking prices go up. In some places, it can cost about $40 a day to park in one of the big parking garages. There are many smaller lots like this one close to the Ballpark, of course, and they are much cheaper during the day. On game days people charge a different rate.

I believe I've taken this picture before for this blog. Red's Java House is a hole in the wall greasy spoon featuring cheap prices for drinks (beer!) and food. I've only had breakfast here which I enjoyed but I love diner food anyway.

The underside of the Bay Bridge next to Pier 24. For some reason I love standing here and listening to the pock, pock sound of the cars on the lower deck of the Bridge on their way to the East Bay.

The East Bay is home to cheaper housing prices, Oakland, Berkeley, Alameda, and various bedroom communities. I don't spend much time there unless I'm visiting friends or going to Berkeley Rep Theater for a show. I should do some exploration and post it here on this blog.

Another view of the Bay Bridge. That island there is Treasure Island, an artificial island halfway between San Francisco and Oakland. The lower deck of the Bridge takes you to Oakland, the upper deck into San Francisco. The Bridge is undergoing a years long retrofitting and upgrade to repair damage from the 1989 Loma Prieta Earthquake.

The historic Hills Bros. Coffee building though you can't see the lovely sign from this angle. We're getting very close to the Financial District now.

This section of The Embarcadero is a nice park with plenty of places to sit, walk your dog, and have snack or picnic. I love these small watery sculptures on the sitting areas. There's also an upscale restaurant or two here though I haven't eaten at either place yet. As you might imagine this area is a prime spot for folks to stop at lunchtime during the week.

My heart in San Francisco. The name of this sculpture is "Cupid's Span" and it never fails to startle people driving by. The street is on the other side of the sculpture.

The Pier 14 walkway is a lovely stroll. You can walk all the way out and get great pictures of the Bay, the Bridge, the Ferry Building, and San Francisco skyline.

Ah yes, my beloved Ferry Building. Note the iconic tower and clock. The Amtrak office is immediately to my right. I say that because people have difficulty finding it even if there are a bunch of signs all over the place.

The inside of our historic Ferry Building.

True to its name you can catch a ferry to the East Bay for commute or other travel purposes here. The Building was closed while it underwent extensive renovations and reopened in 2003 as a gourmet marketplace. It's expensive here but friggin' awesome for great food, drink, whether for shopping or eating. The most upscale Farmer's Market in the City is here on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. I love working down here.

One of the many shops in the Ferry Building. This place just sells mushrooms and other fungi. Heaven!

The Ferry Plaza Wine Merchant, home to many after work gatherings. I've been here many times myself. They also have a small wine shop and are great with their recommendations.

Another view of the Building near the front main entrance.

Ahhhh! One of my favorite places! The Cowgirl Creamery. See all that incredible cheese? They give out samples and are experts at helping you find good cheeses for a party, picnic, and give great recommendations for wine/cheese pairings.

Blue Bottle Coffee is generally considered to have the best coffee in the City. The place is usually mobbed. There's a Peet's too but this place is great.

The back of the Ferry Building. There are many more shops (tea shop, gelato, chocolate shops, small well-appointed grocery shops, you get the idea) and restaurants, of course. If you can manage to get a bench here on a nice day it makes for a lovely lunch outing. The places where you board the ferries are on the left.

Standing in front of the Ferry Building looking towards the bottom of Market Street and towards the Financial District. Justin Herman Plaza is across the street to the right as is Embarcadero Center. The Ferry Building/Embarcadero MUNI stop is here.

The Ferry Building MUNI stop is part of the Market Street/Wharves F Line with its historic street cars. You can take the street car up down the length of Market Street from here to The Castro and from here to Fisherman's Wharf.

I've crossed The Embarcadero and am now looking straight up Market.

The underground Embarcadero MUNI/BART station is just up the street on the right. There's also a California Street Cable Car stop next to the Hyatt Regency Hotel on the right as well. This cable car line goes from the Financial District, through Chinatown, over Nob Hill, and ends at Van Ness Avenue. A historic street car in red is coming towards me in this picture.

Part 2 of this post will conclude with my walk from the Ferry Building to Fisherman's Wharf.

Imaginary Friend

2011-03-05T19:03:00.000-08:00

"We're in a holding pattern, Miss Turtle."

"Yes, we are," I say. A seagull is calling in the distance. I'm standing on my sloping rock but it's hard to be comfortable, my feet keep sliding down. I hop off and sit down on it instead. There's a large rock next to us, bigger than me, very smooth. It's an overcast afternoon at the shore.

"I suppose it's easier when you have hooves," I remark, "To keep from sliding off, I mean."

"When you have hooves, yes, I suppose it is easier. I don't have hooves," he says. He stops speaking for a moment then resumes, "You're trying to distract me again."

"No, I was merely remarking about the rock. I don't think I've ever mentioned it before."

"Hmph."

Mr. Gryphon and I are standing in our usual places, the place of our origins. I'm not sure why we're here but it probably has something to do with the fact that we haven't spent much time on this stretch of shore since I started these blogs. The tide is going out. It's almost like the sea knows we're supposed to do the Lobster Quadrille soon.

"Shouldn't you be going to take a nap? Our girl is supposed to arrive at the appointed spot with the Duchess soon," I say. The wind ruffles my hair. It's breezy but not cold. The salty ocean smells gentle: tender rocks, soft sand, warm water.

"As I said, you're trying to distract me, Miss Turtle. I liked the other post better, the one on the spaceship. More importantly, there's another story to write about us. You haven't even started it yet."

I shake my head and turn away, looking out to sea. He walks around the rock and stands in front of me. I can't look at him. He opens his wings so quickly that a golden feather or two goes flying, startling me. He kneels down.

"Don't look away from me. I'm getting sick of it," he says, glaring at me.

"Don't yell at me!"

"I'm not yelling," he says, and for a moment he reminds me of someone. A unexpected memory shifts into my awareness, leaving me disconcerted.

"I'm busy. There's too much going on. I can't write this story down now. It will take forever, it's going to be long, and I really need to make some progress on my other writings," I say. I stand up and step around him, striding towards the water. The waves are rolling to shore in neat rows and the lowering tide has revealed many shells and rocks. In Miss Turtle's world, the beaches are not picked clean of such treasures. He comes after me, of course.

"We're in a holding pattern as I said. Everything is grinding to a halt. You need to work on this one," he says, right behind me. I mumble. "What?" he says.

I turn to face him. "I don't need to do anything. I don't even have to write this down if I don't want to," I say. He puts his hands on his hips and I feel the frustration rising inside me. "You! You are just a voice in my head, something that flies out of my fingers onto the screen! You don't exist!"

He folds his arms, a very familiar gesture. "I thought I was your imaginary friend."

This response makes me want to cry. I feel stupid all of a sudden or maybe I always feel stupid but am able to keep that feeling at bay some of the time.

"Write it down, please. You know it needs to be done," he says. He is unmovable.

I stiffen and clench my fists. "Who are you to tell me to just 'write it down'? Do you have any idea how much work goes into these stories? How much emotional energy is invested? For God's sake, I JUST LOST MY DOG. CAN'T YOU GIVE ME A BREAK??" We stand there looking at each other and I have to consciously let my shoulders relax and lower. I open my hands and look away from him again.

"I...I can't look at you anymore, Mr. Gryphon. I'm sorry," I say. I'm thinking that my level of stupidity has reached some serious heights now. Why do I torment myself like this? Is it so I don't get bored? Is that why?

"This is precisely the reason why this story has be written down," he says.

"I don't even plan on posting it. I think it's going too crazy for even me to read after I've written it down."

He opens his mouth to say something but he doesn't have to.

"You're right the other post is better but it sets the bar too high. How am I supposed to fulfill those kind of expectations?" I ask. A light rain is starting to fall. I look at the gray water and gray clouds. There's a sliver in the clouds far off shore and a stream of sunlight is shining on the water.

"I suppose our girl isn't going to show up after all. I don't think she has an umbrella with her," I say. The rain is warm and feels good. I raise my face to the falling water.

"Our conversation would be entirely too depressing if she came now," he says. I glance up at him and then away again. Normally, I'd call one of my blue doors so we can go to the parlor and have tea but he can only maintain the facade I've stuck on him for so long. Tea is out of the question. All of sudden I'm dead tired and want to be alone in my library or in the Conservatory but I know he'd follow me. He has to. As he said everything is at a standstill.

The Old Blog: Alligator Munches Digital Camera

2011-03-03T22:33:00.000-08:00

First Posted 11/30/05

Note: This incident took place at the old aquarium before the place was closed for renovations.

I volunteer at an aquarium. Been doing that for a long time. One Saturday, a panicked security guard comes running into the library where we were eating lunch.

Security Guard: "A visitor's lost his digital camera! He dropped it into the Alligator Pit while he was taking a picture!"

We all look at each other. Then one of my friends, let's call him Biologist 1, specialty: temperate salt water, says he'll go check it out. We resume our lunch. A few minutes later, he walks back into the library.

Biologist 1: "Uh, so the guy was taking a picture of the alligators while he was holding his kid at the same time and I guess the kid started squirming and he dropped the camera."

Biologist 2 (specialty: tropical salt water, in particular coral reefs): "So did you fish it out with the net?"

Biologist 1: "Uh, no. The alligator swam over as soon as he saw it and ate it."

He looks around uncomfortably. It is worth mentioning at this point that the Herpetologist on staff (specialty reptiles/amphibians) wasn't working on Saturdays. All of the other biologists working that day specialize in fish. No one in their right mind wants to have to get into the alligator pit with two alligators that are bigger than them just to retrieve a stupid camera.

Biologist 1: "I'll go talk to the guy again." He leaves.

We start talking about what an idiot that guy was to have dropped the camera. Isn't that why cameras have straps? Biologist 1 returns after a few more minutes. We wait.

Biologist 1: "So the guy's wife is insisting we go in there and pry the camera out of the gator's mouth. I explain there's no way we can do that and if she wants we'll send it to her when it comes out the other end. Then she starts screaming about how her brother's wedding pictures are on the camera and we HAVE to pry the gator's mouth open."

Biologist 2: "Did you tell her she's shit out of luck?"

Biologist 1: "I didn't have to. While we were having this conversation, the alligator decided he was tired of the camera and spat it out. I retrieved it with the net."

Biologist 2: "So are they happy now?"

Biologist 1: "No, the woman was so upset that the camera was ruined that she grabbed her kid and left the aquarium." He pulls a digital camera wrapped in plastic out of his pocket. One end is completely crushed and there are four perfect alligator tooth marks that go all the way through the camera.

Me: "Wait, isn't there a way to retrieve the chip and memory or something and get the pictures that way?"

Biologist 1: "I doubt it. The whole thing is soaking wet and has alligator slime and spit all over it."

Biologist 2: "They should have kept the camera as a special souvenir. Would have made a great story for their families and friends."

In the end, I think Biologist 1 kept the camera, but I'll have to ask him about that.

***

Note: This is the reason I always use the camera strap when taking pictures. Always, always, always, no matter how fast I'm trying to shoot I make sure to loop that little strap around my wrist. Also, years later I asked Biologist 1 if he still had the camera. He told me he ended up giving it to the Herpetologist.

The Old blog

2011-03-03T22:30:00.000-08:00

When I first started blogging in 2005 I posted regularly for about eight months then shut the blog down for a few weeks. After flailing around, I started back up again. Don't ask me why. Let's just say it had something to do with one of my exs.

It took me several days to review the old blog and cut and paste almost all the posts for safe-keeping. I have everything in a Word document that's almost 100 pages long. I thought I'd put up a few of my old posts here on occasion. I really like some of the writing and very long time readers like my friend Anne will recognize many of them.

I hope you like these posts as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Movie Musings: Highlights from the San Francisco IndieFest

2011-02-28T13:31:00.000-08:00

This was my second year attending the San Francisco Independent Film Festival or SF IndieFest. I saved my money and bought a festival pass even though I'm still unemployed. My goal was to double the number of films I saw last year (total of eight). I succeeded. About halfway through the festival it looked like I might actually reach 20 films but that didn't happen.

The Stats:
Total number of films watched = 16, plus 1 shorts program.
Total number of days = 15.
Total number of parties attended= 0.
Total number of music gigs attended = 0.

I would have attended more parties but the scheduling was out of whack for me and I had to put my dog down during the second week so I decided to focus on watching the films.

Most of the films I saw were very good and two of them were great. I took extensive notes on everything I saw, including the shorts. The cool thing about the IndieFest is you get to see films that are never distributed and you'll never hear about otherwise. Many times the directors and producers are on hand for a question and answer session and because most people don't ask many questions they end up answering at least one of mine.

I'm not going to write extensively about all sixteen films. Instead, I'll write about my top five favorites then about films that I found to be notable.

THE TOP FIVE FAVORITE FILMS

No. 5 - The Sentimental Engine Slayer
(Dir. Omar Rodriguez-Lopez) (Mexico/United States)
Trailer (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vUSgrvpkejE)

"It's I Ching as in iPod."

Director Omar Rodriguez-Lopez is multi-talented and amazing. He wrote, acted as the main character, directed, scored, and produced this very interesting film. Funny, gritty, and sometimes harrowing, I really enjoyed it. The film is about Barlam, an awkward, withdrawn young man in his early 20s with a penchant for model cougars (the cars, not women). He's carrying on a borderline incestuous relationship with his addict sister and seems to be searching for some kind of grounding in his life. Family friend and boss, Oscar, and his sister's live-in boyfriend, Zack, attempt to provide him with some direction and focus (getting him laid) as they keep telling him to lighten up. The film is not chronologically told, in fact, some scenes loop back on and repeat themselves and there are many fantasy sequences as Barlam switches back and forth between psychopathic rage and helpless doormat. The film had a disjointed storyline but I didn't find it difficult to follow after a while and rather enjoyed trying to figure out what was real and what wasn't.

The music was wonderful (by Omar's own band, The Mars Volta, among others), and the editing was superb. I loved Nomar Rizo as Oscar and Kim Stodel as Zack. Both had the best lines in the film though Barlam's poetic comments in Spanish were lovely.

No. 4 - The Drummond Will
(Dir. Alan Butterworth) (United Kingdom)
Trailer (http://youtu.be/3RjQYTea1ko)

"This isn't Cluedo, Danny!"

This was a funny film. Very dry, very British. I overhead someone say as I was leaving the theater that the film owes a lot to Monty Python. There did seem to be a sort of exasperated John Cleese vibe going on as the situation grew worse and worse. Let me backup. Two estranged brothers attend their estranged father's funeral in a small village. The older one, Marcus, is an uptight corporate sell-out; the younger, Danny, is an eternal optimist with no job and no responsibility. They inherit their father's cottage and thinking it's worthless crap find out there's a large bag of money. Their father's "friends" attempt to take the money for themselves and our two bickering brothers do their best to manage the situation as the body count goes up.

I loved this film's gorgeous black and white photography. The cast was small but very good and though our two lead actors are virtual unknowns they did a great job together.

No. 3 - Kaboom
Opening Night Film - (Dir. Gregg Araki) (United States/France)
Trailer (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xu9NkMCElMk)

"That whole stoner thing was just a cover up."

Our young hero, Smith, is attending college pursing a film studies major. Smith is smart, horny, a little unsure of himself, and has stated that his own sexuality is "undeclared" since he likes both guys and girls. When he thinks he witnesses a fellow student's murder while whacked out on some "cookies" at a party, everyone understandably thinks he was having a bad dream or trip. The mystery moves into conspiracy theory mode and takes off running from there. There's a witch thrown in for good measure and some weird guys in animal masks wandering around.

So yeah, this was a kick in the pants. Very funny and silly with some fantastic lines, this film features a cast of beautiful young gay and bi people having a whole lot of sex. Did I mention there's a lot of nudity too? The girls were great especially London, Smith's current fuck buddy, and Smith's best friend, Stella. I think they had the best lines. I loved the way it was shot with super saturated colors, especially the blues. It enhanced the film's gleeful hedonism.

Director Gregg Araki was on hand and very charming. This is his tenth film with his most famous one being Mysterious Skin. Many members of the audience asked him about his past works. I'm going to have to check out his other films now.

No. 2 - The Last Circus
Closing Night Film - (Dir. Alex De La Iglesia) (Spain)
Trailer (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pvI65Qr6ObM&feature=related)

Sergio: Why do you want to be a clown?
Javier: Why are you?
Sergio: Because if I weren't a clown, I'd be a murderer.
Javier: Me too.

First the story: Two men (Sergio and Javier) are fighting over a lushly gorgeous woman (Natalia). That the two men are clowns and Natalia is an acrobat makes the situation even more...strange. The circus itself is full of animals (many of them human), bizarre characters, and great costumes. Also, the film starts out during the Spanish Civil War in 1937 but the main part of the story picks up in 1973. Okay, enough of that.

I loved, LOVED this film and it is my second favorite of the festival. Full of graphic violence and beautiful images, this film might be described as hellish poetry. Our two anti-heroes, with one just barely functioning as the antagonist, both personify the iconic murderous, psychopathic clown with some nifty facial mutilations thrown in for good measure. Magnificently shot and scored along with great sound effects and sets used to enhance the circus atmosphere and the intense violence. The opening title sequence with its ominous percussive pounding and fascinating images was a work of art in itself. Our two lead actors are not handsome men but their faces, particularly their eyes, are expressive even with mutilations. This film is not politically correct, especially with its scenes of abuse and rough sex, and you can't call its humor black more like a nightmare laced with anarchic hysterics. A mad, arresting vision.

No. 1 - The Aristocrat
(Dir. Gregory Croteau)
Trailer (http://vimeo.com/12714571)

Marc: Are you at all interested in getting by in this business?
Eddie: Yes!
Marc: Then listen!
Eddie: Because you say so much?

This was a great film, the best of the festival. Marc, a traveling salesman, is training his replacement, the young, brash Eddie, so he can spend a year trying to figure out what he wants to do next. I won't say much more than that because this film is best viewed cold, ice cold if you can manage it. There's this wonderful pleasure in approaching it this way. The feeling that you have found something that's a secret, something you found on your own.

The actors were great. The guy who played Marc had only been acting for three months in his own little one man show. The guy who played Eddie had a little more experience. The dialogue is fascinating because I got the sense they were talking about different things at times, that there were things happening in the undercurrent I didn't understand.

I asked the director after the screening when it was going to come out on DVD. He said he wasn't sure if they were going to release it once they were done with the film festival circuit. I hope they do. It's worth buying and pondering over.

By the way, the director is seeking funding for his short film Remember Your Death. They're seeking $10,000 by March 11th and are well on their way to their goal. I've made a donation myself already and if you're interested in checking it out, see this link here (https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1419191340/remember-your-death-a-short-film).

NOTABLE FILMS

As with last year's festival, I saw films that I didn't like as much but were very interesting in other ways. Here's the list:

Machotaildrop
(Dirs. Corey Abrams, Alex Craig) (Canada)
Trailer (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=maMF3E7WlBs)

Young kid Walter Rhum dreams of becoming a pro skate boarder with Machotaildrop, a skateboard company. He's delighted when his video submission is accepted and he's summoned to Machtaildrop where he becomes a spokesperson for the company. Along the way he meets Blair Stanley, a boarder on his way out; the Baron, his boss; Dr. Manfred, who likes to experiment; Sophie, the beautiful librarian, and many fetching costumes. Walter is riding high until things take a dark turn when he finds out what happens to boarders when they can't skate anymore.

Apparently a cult film among skaters, this screening had a sell out crowd of lots of young people with their boards in tow. The story and the film overall was just okay though 18-year old Anthony Amedori as Walter did a great job carrying the film. The best things about it were the skating stunts and the marvelous look and feel of it. The sets (particularly the mansion and its amusement park elements), the highly saturated colors, strange props, weird costumes, odd characters, and quirky music gave the film a kind of carnival, surreal feeling. Very interesting.

R U There
(Dir. David Verbeek) (Taiwan/Netherlands)
Trailer (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wwXg4v1XG8I&feature=related)

A young professional gamer, Jitze, is in Taipei for a gaming competition along with his team. He is focused, disciplined, and aloof. While out for a walk near his hotel he witnesses a fatal accident involving a scooter. The experience shakes him to his core though he won't talk about it with anyone. The subsequent stress affects his shoulder and his ability to focus, causing problems with his gaming. He meets Min Min after seeing her around the hotel, a betelnut girl, sometime masseuse, and possible prostitute, and asks her for a massage. She complies and leaves him her card. Jitze, intrigued by Min Min, goes to her workplace to see her. She mentions when she wants to relax she goes to Second Life. The rest of the film are his attempts to get closer to her in real life and in Second Life.

I liked this film overall but the pacing was uneven: it started off slow, got very interesting, and then the ending was a head scratcher. Still, I liked this movie for its incredible visuals. The scenery and the streets were gorgeous, both of our lead actors were beautiful, and the Second Life and video game sequences were spectacular.

The Trashmaster
Dir. Mathieu Weschler)
Trailer (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qVYCXw-dSKE) (France)

A machinema is a film made entirely with video game engines, in this case Grand Theft Auto IV, but with a completely new storyline, voice actors, and editing. A NYC trash collector moonlights as a vigilante, killing robbers, murders, rapists, and other scum until he appears to meet his match with a particularly twisted serial killer.

Obviously labor intensive and ambitious, I really enjoyed it. Standout sequences include the many shootouts, the chase through the subway tunnels, and, of course, the car chase sequences. The director also made great use of the soundtrack. I've seen similar efforts on Youtube but those are just 2-3 minutes, maybe 10 minutes long. Not a perfect movie, it did seem to drag in a couple of parts, but well worth watching. I was fascinated.

Mr. X
(Dir. Goncalo Galvao Teles) (Portugal)
(Short film = 22 minutes)

This was GORGEOUS! A garbage collector with an unrequited love for a waitress helps an old man standing in front of the trash holding an old camera that no longer works. The garbage collector walks the old man home. While at his apartment, the old man shows him one of his films then gives the camera to the garbage collector. The camera turns out to be magical, capable of creating changes in real life by just saying "lights!" "Wardrobe!" "Take 2!" (for a kiss with the waitress). The scene where he says "Set!" and watches his crummy apartment turn into a completely different room, even the walls change themselves into a different color, is wonderful. This was a magical film and the music was so beautiful I wish I could get a copy of the soundtrack.

Bathing and The Single Girl
(Dir. Christine Elise McCarthy) (United States)
(Short film = 10:52 minutes)
Trailer (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eTUy5ogT6Sw)

This film is a monologue of a woman in her forties trying to hook up with younger men and she centers her musings around her attempts to get said young men in the bathtub with her. Ms. McCarthy wrote, performed, and directed this gem of a short. Hilarious with gorgeous cinematography of her glamorously dressed up and delivering her monologue in the tub, in a satiny pink robe, while doing stand up dressed like Betty Page, and just looking fabulous all the way around. Her musings were insightful and so goddamn funny that I couldn't stop laughing. A real pleasure.

***

Overall, it was definitely worth my time to cram as many films into these 15 days as possible though next year I'll completely clear my calendar and try to up my numbers to over 20. There were lots of films I liked just fine but not enough to make it onto this list, and there were about three that I didn't like much at all. With that kind of ratio I'd say I got my money's worth.

2010 Europe Trip: Ghent - An Art Side Trip

2011-02-24T14:36:00.000-08:00

Ghent is a city in Belgium and about a 30 minute train ride from Bruges. I originally thought I'd take a day trip to Brussels and Ghent but I only had one day. After considering the pros and cons I decided to go to Ghent.

I'd read about both Ghent and Bruges when I was in my early 20s in Conde Nast's Traveler which had recently been relaunched. The article was very short, a blurb really, comparing Bruges with Ghent. It said that Ghent is often overlooked in favor of Bruges. This might be true for many travelers but the primary reason I chose Ghent over Brussels was so I could see some key pieces of art.

When I arrived at the train station I found the tram to downtown after asking some locals. Ghent is a modern city with an amazing city center of medieval buildings. As we drew closer to downtown, however, I realized the city was in the middle of a massive restoration project. All of the streets and sidewalks of the downtown area were being torn up and redone. It was a mess.

A view of the downtown construction.

It quickly became clear that I wasn't going to do much walking around. If that's all I'd come for I would have been disappointed but I came to see the art so all was not lost.

I started at the Sint-Baafs Cathedral (you can see it in the above picture looking down the street) to see the main event, The Ghent Altarpiece or the Adoration of the Mystic Lamb by the van Eyck brothers (started by Hubert, who died while working on it, and finished by his brother Jan). This polyptych was completed in 1432. The altarpiece is 11 x 15 feet. Yes, that means it takes up an entire wall. I knew the painting was undergoing a major restoration but they said I could still see it and watch the restorers at work.

My postcard of the front of the altarpiece with the side panels open

The restorers were housed behind a glass wall with various tables and computers, lights, cameras, and other instruments. They were working on Adam and the singing angels in the upper left corner, and the two panels of knights in the lower left corner. The rest of the main altarpiece was still on the wall. Restorers were making notes and taking pictures of it. The two panels of knights were right in front of the glass wall so I could get a good look at them. I stood there for over an hour, watching and looking. People came and went, including crowds of tour groups. Most were there for two minutes or less. There was one couple who stayed for perhaps 15 minutes before leaving. When I was taking my class of Lower Medieval to High Renaissance Art, I was completely amazed by this altarpiece the first time my teacher showed us the slide. I vowed that I would someday see it in person. At the time it seemed like such an impossible dream. Now that I was there I was really going to look at it.

I noticed the archangel Gabriel was leaned up against the wall behind the closest restorer who was sitting at a desk with a lot of camera and computer equipment. I couldn't really see Gabriel with all the stuff in the way, plus he had a green strap hanging over his precious face. Though I can't draw faces at all I decided to stretch myself a little and draw him.

Gabriel is part of the back side panels which close over the main part of the altarpiece. He's in one panel with Mary in the other next to him in a depiction of the Annunciation.

A photo of the back of my postcard showing the back side panels. You can see Gabriel there on the upper right side and Mary opposite him on the left.

You've seen this sketch before but I had to show in context here.

Another photo of my postcard. You can see what I was trying to attempt in my sketch.

Gabriel was a tough, tough draw. Because he was behind the restorer leaned up against the wall on the floor, I had to stand on my tip toes to get a decent look at him. The restorer noticed I was trying to draw him and was kind enough to turn on a light near him so I could see better. Also, I was really intimidated because this was a treasured masterpiece by the van Eyck brothers with all its glorious attention to minute details. Still, I was very happy I made the attempt. One of the many cool things I liked about Gabriel was his traditional rainbow wings look like the cross section of a watermelon with the same kind of texture.

I reluctantly left the altarpiece and strolled around the cathedral. There's a Rubens there as well though I can't remember which one. I didn't take any pictures of the inside of the cathedral. I went outside and wandered around the main part of the historic city center as much as I could but the torn up streets and heavy equipment motoring around made me think twice so I made my way back to the tram.

Uneven, torn up streets.

Sint-Niklaaskerk is right across the street from Sint-Baafs.

The street restoration project should be finished sometime next year, if memory serves me correctly. When they're done I'm sure the city center will be gorgeous.

I took the tram back to the train station then inquired about where I could find the Citadelpark, a lovely park where there are several museums, among other things. It was very close to the train station, maybe 2-3 blocks away. I was on my way to the Museum voor Schone Kunsten to specifically to see two paintings by my favorite painter, Hieronymous Bosch. As an aside, I wrote an essay a couple of years ago entitled The Role of Extreme Violence in Art where I talk about Bosch, among others, and why I love him so much.

A very beautiful park. No one was around. I think I saw two people on my way to the museum.

Sun, trees. I can't get enough of these kinds of photos.

The museum was larger than I expected and again, no one was around. They had a special exhibit going on but I elected not to see it. The art I was looking for was in the second room I walked into. There they were: Christ Carrying The Cross and Saint Jerome At Prayer.

My postcard of Christ Carrying The Cross, the fifth Bosch I've seen so far.

I LOVE this painting and spent a long time looking at it. There was no one in that part of the museum, not even the security guards. Sadly, the painting was in need of restoration. I decided to try drawing another face and chose the grotesque face in the lower right corner of the painting. Since his features were so exaggerated I thought it might be easier. It wasn't. I particularly had a difficult time with his nose, getting it in proportion to his face and in the correct shape.

On another wall in the same room was Saint Jerome. I was really tired by then and decided to go the easy route and just draw his robe. I've gotten much more comfortable drawing draped fabric.

You can see the robe I drew draped over the tree log on the right.
As the post-it tag notes, this is my sixth Bosch.

I walked through the rest of the museum and only saw three other people. The museum is a kind of a maze with different levels and sub-levels. It seemed like it was organized in a half-circle shape. I kept getting lost and couldn't figure out which direction I was moving in. This proved to be fun because I kept walking into rooms with interesting art, particularly when I got to the 20th Century section.

I eventually found my way out and walked back to the train station where I caught the next train back to Bruges. My back, shoulders, neck, arms and hands were hurting, sketching is a painful activity for me. It was late afternoon in Bruges and folks were out in force in all the outdoor cafes. The walk back was good for me and my feet had finally gotten used to the cobblestones.

My Dog Was A Good Girl

2011-02-21T10:13:00.000-08:00

Me and the Dog. She never did like the camera.

Last Tuesday I had to put my dog down. As I mentioned in a previous blog post she had lymphoma. I refused to go the chemotherapy route and so the vet suggested we put her on a steroid which was supposed to shrink the tumors. It did but it only lasted a month. He said it would last two months, that I would get two more good months with her, but that didn't happen.

The main concern for me was waiting too long. What do I mean by that? It's when you realize the animal is suffering and it's time to end its life but you can't bear the thought of making that decision so you delay until you're forced into it or the animal dies on its own. I've waited too long before with pets and I was determined not to make the same mistake.

She was doing all right until she stopped eating on Saturday night. She'd lost a ton of weight already, her spine and ribs were visible, so when she stopped eating even her favorite foods I knew it wouldn't be long. She ate a treat here and there but that was it. By Sunday night when I took her out for her nightly walk she was having trouble walking up the hill. By Monday morning her legs were starting to give out and she was stumbling.

My Dad always said when the animal can't get up and walk anymore it's the end of the line.

She clearly wasn't feeling well on Monday and I was scheduled to go to the film festival that night for a screening and sort of anti-Valentine's Day party. I went to the screening and then came home, skipping the party. She was glad to see me. That night I picked her up and put her on the bed with me. She used to sleep with me all the time but I kicked her off the bed years ago because she sheds like crazy. I was up most of the night with her, talking to her and petting her. We both dozed here and there but kept waking up. She was panting a lot and wheezing. Towards the dawn I took her outside and she could barely walk. We went back to bed and slept a bit longer.

When I finally got up I asked if she wanted to get off the bed because I'd have to help her jump down. She just gave me this look like, "Hey, I'm up here now and I'm not leavin'!" I managed to coax her off the bed and we went outside again. It wasn't good. And I knew it was time.

When you've made a decision like this you're always second guessing yourself. Even though all the factors line up and you know without a doubt that this was the only course of action you could have taken you still can't get over that terrible truth which is:

I killed my dog. Sure it was the most humane decision but...I still did it.

So I spent a lot of time that morning justifying this decision, and I still spend time justifying it. It's a normal part of the grieving process. I go over the reasons again and again. They are:

She stopped eating and I didn't want her to go another day without eating. Christ, I didn't want her to fucking starve to death or even be on her way to starving to death.

In another half day, she wouldn't be able to walk anymore and I wouldn't be able to pick her up. She wouldn't be able to go to the bathroom on her own. The thought of her sitting in her own shit and piss and feeling awful about it because she always feels terrible when she has an accident, well, I just didn't want to put her through that.

I was so afraid that she would die alone. I didn't want to come home and find that she'd died by herself without anybody (me) around.

Pain. My dog was clearly in pain though she was being a good sport about it.

I sat in the bathroom with her on that Monday morning and did my first round of crying. She was sitting there because she couldn't really get up anymore. Then I got myself under control and called my Dad. My first thought was I'd take her to my vet and have him do it but realized I wouldn't be able to get her back into the car. Instead, I asked my Dad if I could bring her to his vet. He and my brother were both available. He agreed this was a good idea.

When I got her into the car, she was so weak she couldn't climb into the back and had to sit on the floor of the backseat. She's never done that. I had to help her out of the car. When my Dad saw her he suggested we try to take her to the vet right away if they were available. My Dad and brother had already dug her grave in the backyard.

The vet and vet staff were great and overall I have to say this was a really good experience. We put her on the dog bed and the vet explained how everything would work. She told us they would give her a sedative and then a full syringe of barbiturates. She warned me that it would be very fast, 2-3 minutes tops. I sat on the floor next to her head, my brother sat on the other side, and my Dad sat on the bench. The vet techs came in and inserted a needle into her arm then left. The vet came in and asked if I we wanted more time to say goodbye. My brother and I said no.

Through it all my dog was very calm. She seemed only a little worried and not at all agitated or scared. She wasn't even panting and she always pants when she's at the vet. The vet came back with two syringes. The sedative and what looked a full 10ccs of pink liquid. My brother told me later that was a huge amount, maybe enough to kill a human being. The vet injected the sedative and I leaned over my dog, taking her head in my hands.

She loved getting her cheeks and the side of her head stroked and would always lean into my hands and close her eyes whenever I did this. She didn't do that this time. Instead she stared into my eyes. My hair fell over both of us and formed a kind of tent, and then it was just me and her. I kept murmuring over and over that she was a good dog, kept stroking her head. She kept blinking but her blinking had already started to slow down. The vet said she was going to inject the pink liquid and I stared into her eyes and focused on her like I never focused on anyone else before. She gave a gasp and then another one, glanced at the syringe, then looked back at me. I kept stroking her head and murmuring, just the two of us underneath my hair, staring at each other. She blinked maybe two or three more times and her breathing became soft and gentle. And then she was gone and her head completely relaxed in my hands. I raised my head up and placed my hand on her side to check her breathing as the vet listened with her stethoscope.

The entire procedure from the time the vet injected the sedative to the time her head relaxed in my hands took less than two minutes.

The vet left, so did my Dad and brother, and I had a few minutes alone with her. I removed her leash and collar and kept petting and talking to her. I've heard that when the body dies, it takes a bit longer for the brain cells to shut down. If there was any chance that she could still hear and/or smell me I wanted her to know I was still there.

We took her home and put her into the ground. We let my parents' dog look at and smell her then we buried her.

The entire experience was a really good one as I mentioned before. I was there with her, so were my Dad and brother. And it was mercifully fast. I hope my own death is that good.

***

I'm still grieving, obviously. I still haven't cleaned up her toys or her dog bowls. I'll get around to doing that sometime. I'm not worried about it.

I miss her terribly.

I thought long and hard about whether to write this post but in the end I decided that putting this experience out there for others to read was a good idea. The mixed feelings about this experience is inevitable and it's something that many pet owners will have to go through at some point.

While I have guilty feelings over putting my dog down, I'm absolutely certain that I didn't wait too long this time. It's a small comfort.

Thanks for reading.

Writing Life: Reading to "Learn"

2011-02-18T15:53:00.000-08:00

As I've said before, reading all the time is essential for writers. My problem is I read very slowly and I wasn't getting much out of it. I was enjoying the stories but not really learning anything.

Recently, I came up with a way to read and "learn" at the same time. This grew out of my penchant for taking notes in the margins while reading difficult books. I started reading Paradise Lost by John Milton this way. Since it was taking me so long to read, I started summarizing the story in the margins so it would be easy to do a quick review if necessary. I started underlining parts that I liked and putting boxes around unknown words. Soon, however, I was making commentary as I went along such as keeping track of Milton's names for Satan, musing about the story questions, adding cuneiform numbers (for fun), and giving my completely unwarranted opinions about the action such as "Damn, Book X is long," "I'm sure God sounds just like John Cleese," and "Okay, Satan has been out of this story for far too long a time."

Since I'm writing a historical mystery, I need to read historical mystery novels so I decided to try a similar idea for my current book The Name of the Rose by Umberto Ecco, a book about a series of murders that place in a monastery in 1327 in Northern Italy. I read this book years ago when I was in my late teens. I remember enjoying it and thinking the plot was very well done so I was mostly interesting in mapping it out so I could learn to create better plots. Mapping out the plot is where you do a sort of summary of each scene (or chapter or whatever) so you can look at the story as a whole. The classic way to do this is with 3x5 index cards but I'm going to do my map in Scrivener. I'm primarily focused on the plot of the book but I'm also looking out for other useful things to note. Here's a summary of the process so far:

On the first page I created a place to note the two main characters' tags. A tag is something that makes the character unique such as their age, their background, what they look like, their personality, likes and dislikes, etc. For this book, I'm keeping track of tags for Adso (the narrator and young novice) and William (the monk and former inquisitor charged with solving the mystery). William (of Baskerville, no less) is modeled after Sherlock Holmes and Adso sort of functions as his Watson.

Next, I make notes in the margins summarizing the action. Time is very important in this story since it takes place over seven days so I pay close attention to how time unfolds. Umberto does a great job of building up the tension in several different ways which I make note of.

I look out for other instructive and wonderful things to note. This story has a lot of early church history. In fact, Umberto goes into deeply into this history, probably more than is necessary, and seamlessly incorporates it into the story and makes it personal to the characters.

Also, the story world is detailed and obviously well researched. Umberto really only has to concentrate his efforts on the monastery itself. The heart of the story takes place in the Library, a mysterious place full of dangers and secrets. This Library is a literally a maze: if you go in, you may not find your way out again.

These are the things I'm concentrating on for this book. For another book I might concentrate on the characters if they're particularly vivid or the language or settings. When I'm done with my notes, I'll map out the plot in Scrivener and will likely do an write-up of the other aspects of the book I liked and why I think they worked so well.

This is a time consuming process but very worthwhile. I wrote a story not too long ago based on characters that already exist and I felt it was important to re-read the source material. Well, that process took almost two months and I took extensive notes. It was a very useful exercise because I learned that it was necessary to invest that kind of research into my own characters.

I plan to go back to certain books to figure out why certain parts work so well. For example, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon has a GREAT ending. I'm going to try to figure out what makes it so moving and wonderful. Also, the short story Honey Pie by Haruki Murakami is one of the sweetest love stories I've ever read but it's not overly sentimental or cliched, and I want to figure out how he did it.

I do enjoy this process. When I was younger the thought of writing in my books made me shudder and I still won't write in hardcover books, but I have to say going to the shelf and opening up that marked copy of Paradise Lost gives me a great deal of pleasure.

Victims Hanging From Unfriendly Walls

2011-02-12T15:31:00.000-08:00

Within those years, like tiny buttons marching up a woman's bare back, we carried on. Our relationship was a compartmentalized ritual, a broken shell of a box decorated for practical consumption only.

You always hated those barren, naked nights. Too cold, too raw, you said. The blankets were too slick, the bedroom too distant. You never liked sushi anyway.

We marched past expensive restaurants, never dreaming, only eating our way through and around. Everything to be consumed in one fell swoop before moving on to the next. We were like army ants decimating our tiny landscapes, marching off to war, and taking all prisoners. We struggled to hang the victims of our battles from unfriendly walls but the corpses wouldn't stay put. Instead, they floated off to the ether, calm and at peace.

You always wanted for more. And more. Insatiable lust is easy and expected, it's everything else that's difficult to manage.

You always seemed to be a wide open mouth of deadly proportions with teeth of steel and glass. You eat everything out and spit it up. You starve, you hunger. You are never satisfied. You are the monster disco dancing, longing for that white polyester suit.

We craved around everything imaginable, sucking and tasting our way through polite, educated society. We defined ourselves by our consumption. We threw it all way after using it up, or even without the using. Sometimes we just had things and then let them go. Sometimes we were loving about it but most of the time there were animals involved just to keep things interesting.

You always seemed to be a mashed up conundrum of insecurities, a screwed up scramble of leftover emotions, and burned up good intentions. I know your secrets, all of them, like how you've taken to eating the very earth, chomping at the ground in desperation. I know you have indigestion problems. I know you drink like a fish. I know all living creatures flee before you in panic.

Movie Musings: The Films of Luis Buñuel - Un Chien Andalou and L'Age d'Or

2011-02-09T11:43:00.000-08:00

***This post contains movie spoilers**

Luis Buñuel directed our two best known surrealist films: Un Chien Andalou and L'Age d'Or. Salvador Dalí and Buñuel co-wrote both screenplays. They became close friends, along with poet/playwright Federico García Lorca, while studying at the University of Madrid. These two films form what is thought of as Buñuel's First French Period. Part of the reason I choose him for this film survey is because he's made films in many different countries, in different languages, and I thought it would be fascinating to see how the director evolved and matured over time.

Un Chien Andalou (1929) - This is a silent film and it clocks in at 16 minutes though they are 16 crazy minutes. There's no plot. Mostly, it's a series of bizarre surrealist and disturbing images involving a man and a woman. The primary theme in the film seems to be sex and death. This film boasts the most infamous and famous opening sequence ever filmed: a man slitting open a woman's eyeball with the straight razor while she sits impassively. Other famous scenes include a man fondling a woman's naked breasts and buttocks, ants crawling out of a hole in the man's hand (you just know that was Dalí's contribution), the man using ropes to pull on two pianos with rotting donkeys and bewildered priests in tow (one of whom is played by Dalí himself).

I liked the film. Because there's no real plot, you're forced to focus on the images themselves which gives it a very different feeling from most films. This isn't film as the storyteller, this is the filmmaker's attempt to speak to the viewer's subconscious in a visceral, uncomfortable way.

The DVD I rented has commentary but I really couldn't make heads or tails as to what the guy was talking about. He wasn't really talking about the film or how it was made though he did repeat several times that the film was about sex and death. I was craving some additional information about how they came up with some of the ideas for it but there was no such information. Buñuel stated the film isn't about anything at all and it's not supposed to make a statement, religious, political, or otherwise.

L'Age d'Or (1930) - This film clocks in at one hour. It's very obvious Buñuel's intent when making this film was to offend as many people as possible especially the Roman Catholic Church and bourgeois society. He also manages to offend families, conductors, respectable folks, and parents.

The film starts as a documentary about scorpions before moving onto a short sequence about some poor, wounded soldiers attempting to hold back the enemy (who turn out to be a bunch of church leaders) but are unable to do so. The film then switches to a group of respectable folks gathering at a civic ceremony. The solemnity of this ceremony is interrupted by the ecstatic cries of a lusty couple who are rolling around in the mud. They are soon separated by the crowd and for most of the film they attempt to get back together but are thwarted again and again. (Heh, sounds like a reoccurring dream I have every once in a while.) Most of the film takes place at a fancy party where our couple desperately tries to consummate their passion. The last scene shows a group of debauched men leaving a certain castle after indulging in a murderous orgy for 120 days (based on The 120 Days of Sodom by the Marquis de Sade). The first nobleman who emerges strongly resembles Christ.

I thought Buñuel's use of sound in the film was ingenious. He was very selective about it. From the sound of the wind blowing out of a mirror which shows the sky and clouds instead of a reflection (one of the most famous sequences in the film), to the crunch, crunch of a man's shoes on gravel lining a garden path, to a pet cow's rather persistent cow bell ringing during a dinner party, the sounds were interesting and surprising.

I really liked this movie. I've had a few days to digest this film and it just seems to get better and better. Though the ending is disturbing (esp if you know anything about de Sade's story), the rest of the film has plenty of black humor. One of my favorite sequences is when the man, apparently rejected by the woman, goes to her bedroom and in his rage throws a bunch of stuff out her window including a burning bush, an archbishop, a plow, a giraffe (but not the cow), and some goose down from her pillows. I also love the part where the man gets a phone call and leaves the woman. The woman expresses her sexual frustration by fellating the toes of a religious statue she's sitting next to in the garden. This scene could be described as pornographic.

The film caused a riot in Paris, was banned for almost 50 years, and there was a rumor that the aristocrat who commissioned it might be excommunicated by the pope. This is the kind of film that certain folks today would call an affront to family values and point to it as a breakdown of society's morals. Certainly people in 1930 thought this was true. Some people say the film's message is that sexual repression leads to violence. It's as good an interpretation as any.

Stuff I've Been Thinking About Lately - A List

2011-02-08T02:08:00.000-08:00

Does the fact that I don't have a regular job, a family, and a significant other make me a loser or does it mean that I have more freedom than even I thought possible?

In little over a week's time I saw five plays/musicals: Harper Regan (a sort of female version of the Odyssey), Clue (based on the board game/movie), Next to Normal (a harrowing but amazing Pulitzer prize winning Broadway musical), Spalding Gray: Stories Left to Tell (excerpts from his monologues, notebooks, letters, and journal), and East 14th: True Tales of a Reluctant Player (a fantastic monologue by a guy who grew up in Oakland whose father was a pimp).

Just how many films can I watch at the SF IndieFest (Independent Film Festival) anyway?

One of my horoscopes for the beginning of the year said I wouldn't have to worry about encountering fire demons, wart-ridden vampires, two-headed dogs, moaning ghosts, wayward werewolves, or extraterrestrial robots this year. Well, he's blasted wrong about the two-headed dogs already and may be wrong about the extraterrestrial robots.

I'm not spending enough time with my novel and my characters are getting pissed off. Hopefully they won't mutiny or stage a protest.

I'm in love with my calendar.

The most important and most difficult thing is forgiving yourself.

Today I fell madly, deeply in love with the following image:

Glass of Water and Coffeepot (c. 1761) by Jean-Baptiste-Siméon Chardin

There's a strange tension going on lately with the good and bad. For example, my dog is dying and has diarrhea. One thing I've been having to do is clean her up after each walk. Yesterday, I was talking to her about how unpleasant it is to have to keep wiping her ass but I realized that the day when I stop having to do so is the day she's gone forever. I bowed my head and wept. Just me and dog, alone in the bathroom with the water running. A bad moment fraught with so much good.

I'm tired and worn out but so happy lately. So many stressful things happening and yet it seems the world has chosen this time of all times to reveal itself and its beauties: the soft warmth of the night and the delicate sweet sun in the daytime, great friends and great conversations, the overwhelming feeling that love is not only everything but it seems to go on forever, inexhaustible. Not necessarily romantic love but love that comes from seeing all the wonders that reside within, all the great gifts. I suppose it's a fitting feeling with Valentine's Day around the corner even if I can't expect a box of chocolates this year.

I hope you are all doing very well. Thanks for reading.

City Life: Ocean Beach & Fire Dancers

2011-02-07T19:17:00.000-08:00

My friend and I went for another walk on Ocean Beach last week. I won't bore you with the usual sunset pictures but we did see some fire dancers performing after the sunset.

Another sunset picture on Ocean Beach. I never get tired of it but
I do seem to be taking a lot of these sunset photos lately.

The fire dancers were on the walkway. There was a nice band playing with them. They'd attracted quite the crowd.

This woman was using a sort of hula hoop that had been lit in several places. Very impressive.

This was the first guy we saw. I love his expression of concentration.

I had no idea fire dancers performed here. It gave the evening a primitive feeling. After all, what could be more basic than fire on a chilly night?

Taking Pictures

2011-02-04T00:34:00.000-08:00

A couple of people asked me how I take pictures and my response was "point and shoot." A friend suggested I write a blog post about my picture taking process. I didn't see the point of such a post because I didn't think there was a process. Stop, point, and shoot seemed to be it. After a while, however, I realized there is a process I follow if there's enough time. For what it's worth here is how I approach picture-taking.

First, the camera. I take my pictures with a Panasonic DMC-TZ4 with 10x optimal zoom and Leica lens (maximum number of megapixels = 8). This is a great point and shoot camera. Of course, I paid more for it but it's been wonderful and responsible for almost all the photographs I've posted here in the last 2-3 years. I chose this camera primarily for its 10x zoom without giving much thought to anything else, including the brand name. I have a couple of Canon Rebel 35mm film cameras but I didn't feel I had to stick to a Canon camera.

Taken with my Motorola Droid phone, my "other" camera.

CAMERA MODE

I start out by getting into "camera mode." This means taking a look around. I look all around me, up close and far away. I usually look up at the sky first (or ceiling and upper walls) then far out in front of me. Then I'll look at the light and see how it changes as I move around. I try to home in on shape next and usually this means building architecture and streets if I'm outside. Sometimes it means looking at trees, plants, clouds, hills, the waves if I'm at the ocean. Then I'll look at people walking by.

While indoors I'll do the same thing but adjust for the confined space. If you're inside a building be sure to look up and all around you. You're looking for interesting architectural details, how the light filters through the windows and doors, interesting details that might make up a good close up shot, etc. If you're in an intimate space, such as a home, focus on personal items, wall color and pattern and how the light is coming in. Even if you're taking pictures of people, you still want to get a good sense of the "feel" of the environment and the light so you can use the best background.

Walking around is very important if you have time. You might see a picture you want to take but if you're walking around you might find your subject looks better from a different angle because of the way the light is or because it simply looks more interesting from a different viewpoint. And a different angle might mean shooting from the floor or high above.

If you have the time I suggest taking a few test shots to see how they come out and what the light looks like. You might find that using a flash would be better or you might want to try out a different setting on your camera. I also suggest trying out the zoom to see if that makes for a better picture. It doesn't matter if the picture isn't completely in focus, this is just a test run.

Getting into "camera mode" at a church in Bruges. I knew this photo wouldn't be particularly compelling but I took the shot and several others like it to see how the architecture of the space and light showed up in the picture.

Another "camera mode" picture in the same church. I thought this picture of the church organ might turn out well because of the light in the windows and the angle but when I took the first shot, I didn't like it.

POINT, MOVE, ZOOM, LIGHT, SHOOT

Many times I'm already in camera mode so all I have to do is keep looking until something catches my eye. I'll pull out my camera or turn it on and then set up the shot. I try not to use any presets on my camera unless it's Nighttime or Scenery. I don't use Sunset mode because it makes everything way too orange. I try to take at least 3-4 shots of my subject unless I'm moving pretty fast (as when I went hiking in the Narrows at Zion). When I'm moving quickly I'll just point and shoot (preferably two times) and move on, trusting that something will come out. Many times the best shots are the spontaneous ones.

Start of the snow in Budapest. An example of shooting quickly and
using a little zoom to make the picture better

Never underestimate the usefulness of your zoom. While I have 10x zoom on my camera, I still think any zoom is worth experimenting with. Sometimes all you need to do is pull in a little tighter. I shot the picture above through the window of the tour bus as we were driving around a corner. Look out the window, focus, point, shoot, glance at photo, zoom in tighter, shoot again. I was hoping against hope I would capture the snow falling. In the first one (below) you can see the reflection of bus lights in the window. The one above is the second one. You can see reflections from the bus window in the picture above but they aren't that noticeable. I choose to take this picture here because you can't see as many buildings in the background. Had I taken the shot a few seconds later, you'd see them and I don't think I would have liked the picture as much.

Here's the first picture with the bus lights, the window corner, and the sidewalk.

Paying attention to light and color in less obvious places can yield some good shots. Light and color are front and center while walking on the beach at sunset but paying attention elsewhere can be interesting too.

The underside of a pier in Santa Cruz, California. I wouldn't call this one of my best shots but I like it for the color on the water and the shadowy supports. This shot and the other four like them were experiments in trying to capture light, shadow, and color.

Here's another shot. As I said, not one of my best but a worthwhile experiment.

Ferns at the National Conservatory in Washington, D.C. Had I taken the picture straight on I would have been shooting into the sun. I walked a few steps to the left and took this shot.

I took this shot in Nuremberg while walking along the top of the city wall. I took a lot of photos on this walk as research for my novel and had fun with the constant play of shadow and light.

ANGLES, FRAMING

I really like to play with angles: shooting from above, shooting from the ground, making the subject off center in the picture, and most important, leaning back and shooting straight up. I don't always use these shots but they really help me loosen up and take good pictures. One of the best photos I've ever taken is one I took with my 35mm film Canon Rebel camera at Bryce Canyon. One shot. I leaned back as far as I could and shot a picture of a redwood in the middle of the narrow red canyon looking up at the top of the tree and the blue sky. The picture is framed at my parents' house. I should have a digital version of it made so I can post it here.

The Brooklyn Bridge in NYC. I like this picture just fine but everyone takes this picture.

The Brooklyn Bridge again. I was fascinated by the interplay of cables and overcast sky. After leaning over and tilting my head I decided on this shot. I like it much better.

I'm also interested in reflections and framing shots a little differently. I tend to think in terms of architecture when trying to come up with a different way to frame a picture. Is there a part of a building or piece of furniture or trees that will frame and bring out your subject better?

I took this picture at the MOMA in NYC. I was eating on the cafe balcony and noticed the reflection of the buildings on the outside wall of the museum. I don't recall if I ever showed this picture to anyone but I like it a lot.

I took this shot at the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. I took a couple of pictures without the window bars but really like how this picture and the other one like it turned out. This is a GREAT wallpaper on my computer.

A hallway at the Abby in Melk, Austria. I find that shooting anything that is a tunnel or looks like a tunnel usually yields interesting results. If you're shooting an actual tunnel, I've found that going a little ways inside gets the best pictures especially if the tunnel is dark and the other end is light. If you're still not getting a good shot then try moving around some more.

Another example of my experiment with framing. This is my old friend Pierre the Penguin inside his nest box. I'm shooting through the small hole in the back of the box. It's blurry but it was an experiment.

You've all seen this picture in the sidebar. Pierre climbed out of his nest box a couple of minutes later. He noticed I was still fussing with my camera and turned to look directly at me. And yes he is looking at me. Penguins don't have binocular vision like we do so when they want to take a good look at you they turn their head and look at you with one eye.

LIMITATIONS, SELF-IMPOSED AND OTHERWISE

I am well aware of my limitations while taking photos. For example, I don't really understand the manual controls or even the presets on my camera. Instead, I have to rely on doing what I can to get the camera to duplicate what I see. One of the major things I struggle with is camera shake where you can't hold the camera still enough and your pictures turn out blurry. Obviously, this is a common problem when you're moving quickly. It's great that my camera is small and fairly light but that also means I can't hold it perfectly still either. A larger, heavier camera helps compensate for this problem but it also means your camera weighs a ton while lugging it around. Many cameras have a feature that can compensate for this problem some of the time. Also, I could use a tripod but to be honest the times I have the most problem with camera shake is when I'm trying to take a picture at an unusual angle such as when I'm leaning straight back. Taking a deep breath and holding it while planting my feet just before taking the shot helps a lot.

I don't really like to take pictures of people posing in front of something, like a landmark. I suppose the reason why is everyone takes pictures like that. When I took my two trips to Europe I spent a good deal of time taking self-portraits. Inevitably, someone in my group or a passerby would offer to take a picture of me standing in front of something. I can think of only two of these kinds of pictures of me that I actually like.

A photo of me standing in front of a canal taken by a nice man while I was in Bruges.

Obviously this is a cheesy self-portrait but I like it anyway. I'd been looking at Flemish Primitives in Bruges the previous day and was spending the day in Ghent. I'd just come from seeing the Ghent Altarpiece and I was on my way to see more Flemish Primitives at the Fine Arts Museum. I was in Northern Renaissance art heaven and I think you can see it in my expression.

KEEP SHOOTING

As with writing, the best advice I can give you is to keep shooting. You never know when you'll come up with something really cool. The easiest way to do this is to take your camera with you and use it all the time. It's the only way to get better. Start a blog of your pictures. Why not? I think I've become a much better photographer since I started posting pictures on this blog.

This is a picture of me reflected in a sign on the fountain in Justin Hermann Plaza in the Financial District here in San Francisco. I was hoping to get some interesting shots using the reflection but I was having difficult getting anything that looked right.

Then I got this shot and it was only one shot. The rest of the pictures look like the one above. Somehow I got the camera to focus on me instead of the signage and my eye came into perfect focus. Plus, I love that you can only see part of my face. This picture looks good in color but I think it looks even better in black and white.

Even if you don't take a camera with you all the time it would still be worthwhile to find interesting pictures to take with your phone camera. You never know when you might get something good and it's very good practice.

In terms of alterations I only alter my photos when I want to lighten them up a little if a photo is too dark or if the photo is a little out of focus I might try to sharpen it. I don't change the color and I never crop my photos. I don't do anything else to my photos unless I'm doing obvious alterations like I've done with my self-portraits. Such as:

Let me know if you have other picture taking suggestions or ideas. I'd love to hear your tips and tricks.

City Life: Railroad Tracks Over the San Francisco Bay

2011-02-02T20:25:00.000-08:00

I was visiting Pier 24 Photography yesterday afternoon taking in photographs from the Collection of Randi and Bob Fisher.

When I arrived at the front door of the exhibit hall, I noticed with amazement that there were old railroad tracks alongside the pier. These tracks are obviously no longer in use. If you look straight down on the tracks you can see water from the Bay underneath. I took the above picture with my phone so you can't see the blue waters of the San Francisco Bay just beyond the tracks unfortunately but I did manage to tilt the shot so you can get a glimpse of the underside of the Bay Bridge.

City Life: Stairway to Heaven

2011-01-31T12:58:00.000-08:00

Modified version of the staircase picture from my earlier post about the fog. It has a haunted look about it. Maybe even a Stairway to Heaven feel to it.

I'm stomping through the cold dark streets. It's okay to walk in middle of the street because it's after 3:00 am. The streets shine with orange fused illumination from the street lights. I stand in the middle of the street trying to get a picture of some kind but everything keeps coming out wrong.

It seems my desire to photograph what I see is getting more and more urgent but getting the camera to cooperate is something else. I wave at it, cajole the flash, hold onto it tightly (always wrapped around my wrist in case I drop it), and otherwise attempt to seduce my camera into seeing my vision or coming up with a better one.

Still, I'm grateful for this camera. When I bought it I was only focused on the 10x zoom and its luscious small size. I had no idea the lens was so much better than a regular point and shoot though I should have figured that out when I paid good money for it.

The dog just wants to keep going up the street, up that steep hill. I don't know why. There aren't many bushes for her to sniff around in. It's so late that the 36 bus has even stopped rattling by. I look up at a friend's window as we walk up the hill. She's asleep but it's still comforting knowing she's up there. Some people still have their Christmas lights on.

I like that Stairway to Heaven picture. The bright light at the stop of the stairs is one of the orange streetlights. It brings to mind Heaven's retractable staircase in Milton's Paradise Lost. I enjoyed modifying it. I was trying to keep more color in the photo but each time I tried to infuse some color the whole thing would go monochrome orange, green, or blue.

Someday I'll write a Stairway to Heaven story. It's one of the many religious motifs I haven't used yet.

My Dog Has Lymphoma

2011-01-28T13:05:00.000-08:00

And she doesn't have long to live. Lymphoma means she has cancer in all her lymph nodes.

I had the option of chemotherapy but I can't put her through that. For one thing, it's crazy expensive and I'm still unemployed. More importantly, chemotherapy is terrible. It's very hard on the body. Even if she responds well to the chemo there complications that have to be dealt with because her immune system will be compromised and she'll be sick for a good part of the time. Ugh. No thank you.

Dogs who have lymphoma and who are not treated live for an average of 2 months after diagnosis. As a compromise, I chose the middle treatment of putting her on a steroid, Prednisone, which is supposed to shrink the tumors. It's only supposed to help for 60 days then the cancer comes back with a vengeance but it will be 60 good days where she isn't too sick. As of right now I have about six more good weeks with her. I'm estimating I'll have her for about three more months, maybe four.

Having grown up with pets I've been through these situations before. Also, since I volunteer with the penguins we bump up against these issues every now and then but volunteering allows me to maintain a bit of distance. Because they are essentially wild animals in captivity you are charged with doing what's best for them since you are their caretaker. It's still hard but over the years I've been able to (sort of) steel myself emotionally where the penguins are concerned. My dog is a different story. She's my family, my companion, and my sweetheart. It's going to rough going.

The most difficult part will be the problem of waiting too long. When your pet is really sick and suffering it's your duty to have them put down. Any delay that occurs is just plain selfishness on your part. I have been guilty of waiting too long so I know all about that. You tell yourself just a little bit longer because you can't bear to make that terrible decision. This time I hope to do right by her and make the decision without delay. But it's not going to be easy.

She was adopted from the SPCA when I was still married. My ex told me I should make the decision as to which dog we were going to bring home with us. I looked at lots of dogs. He'd liked her in particular but I wasn't sure. We were told she'd had all her shots and she was spayed. I finally asked how long she'd been at the SPCA and they said three months. I looked at my ex and told him we were taking her home. Three months is a long time for a dog to be at a shelter. She was probably a little less than a year old when we brought her home. She turned out to be housebroken, very smart, neurotic, and overprotective. We adopted another dog as a companion for her and she's now my parents' dog. My parents originally had both dogs but my dad asked me to take her home with me because "she needs you." He was right in that she was very strongly bonded with me. She made the intense transition from living in a good size house in the mountains with a backyard and a companion dog to living in a one bedroom apartment in the middle of San Francisco with just me. She's a good girl.

I've decided when she goes not get another dog. I might change my mind later but having a dog in San Francisco is expensive and difficult. I lucked out with finding my current apartment which allows dogs but most places don't let you have them. I had a dog walker until recently, also very expensive. Maybe I'll get a cat instead. We'll see.

"DROP IT ON 'EMMMMMMMMMMMMM...!!

2011-01-21T02:07:00.000-08:00

At the end of 1979, Pink Floyd released their monumental double album The Wall. I was in middle school at the time and there was much excitement over this release. I was no stranger to Pink Floyd, of course. My brother had Dark Side of the Moon and I was intimately familiar with it. Also, I had taken the rock music route through school, with dashes of punk thrown in, instead of the usual pop/dance music even though everyone associated rock/metal with stoners.

I was at my best friend's cousin's house and her older brother had just bought The Wall that day. It was still shrink wrapped in plastic. Without asking permission I removed the wrapper, pulled out the first record, and put it on the turntable. The first strains of In the Flesh? came through the speakers and I had to sit on the floor because my legs almost buckled. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I didn't notice my best friend or her cousin protesting that I was playing this record that didn't belong to me and had turned up the volume really loud. I barely noticed when the older brother showed up with his friends. They asked us what the hell we were doing. By that time, my best friend and I were pouring over the album and reviewing the lyrics. I was a precocious kid and had taken to explaining the story to my best friend and her cousin while offering psychological analysis about the album's protagonist/anti-hero, Pink, so they might understand what was going on. This wasn't difficult to do since everything is laid out in the song lyrics. After a while, even my best friend's cousin left us alone as did the adults and we sat there, she and I, listening to the entire album in one go. While we listened to it I silently claimed the album as mine, as a product of this time, my time. Other albums might be better and others might be more favored but no other album spoke to me at such a seminal time in my life as this one did.

I was fairly humming after that and recall sitting in the car on the way home while my best friend's dad teased me. I think it was the only time I ever ignored him. It didn't take me long to buy my own album. I still have it at my parents' house. I should take it out and see what kind of shape it's in. It was the last album I bought until after I got out of high school. By the time I bought it Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2 had been released as a single and we had our own anthem:

We don't need no education. We don't need no thought control.
No dark sarcasm in the classroom. Teachers, leave them kids alone.
Hey Teachers! Leave them kids alone!

When you're a kid you hear about anthems and such, something that people can rally behind. We'd claimed this one for ourselves and the song, with its distinctive baseline and disco beat, seemed to be flooding the school hallways. One afternoon on the bus ride home, the driver cranked up the song and we were all screaming the song lyrics as we rode down the street. It was beautiful.

Later, Run Like Hell, Young Lust, Hey You, and that stoner staple, Comfortably Numb got plenty of airplay on the radio. All of them are wonderful songs.

Most of my peers had either never heard the album in its entirety or only listened to it when they were stoned so they didn't seem to know the album was about isolation and alienation, about a man who must build a wall around himself to keep everyone else away because it's his only defense against pain. A man who torments himself so much that he puts himself on trial and ends up destroying his wall, leaving himself exposed and naked to a cold, cruel existence. I was amazed and moved by the story and its wrenching honesty. I couldn't believe that Roger Waters, who conceived the album and wrote most of the lyrics, would expose himself that much.

I went against conventional wisdom by declaring that my favorite songs were In the Flesh?, One of My Turns, Run Like Hell, and Mother. I told everyone that Mother was the best song on the album and defied everyone at the height of The Wall's popularity by telling them this was my favorite album but Dark Side of the Moon was better. Mother was and still is horrifically creepy. One of My Turns is funny even if it shows Pink as the mentally unstable rock star. Run Like Hell is exhilarating though my friends didn't like David Gilmour's "run, run, run, run" vocals in the song. My favorite song is In the Flesh? which clocks in at 3:19. While I love all the songs on the album none of them have the same visceral affect on me as In the Flesh? I would listen to the song and revel in the short lyrics:

So ya thought ya might like to
Go to the show
To feel the thrill of confusion
That space cadet glow

Tell me is something eluding you, sunshine?
Is this not what you expected to see?
If you wanna find out what's behind these cold eyes
You'll just have to claw your way through this disguise!

Lights! Roll the sound effects! Action!
Drop it...on em!
Drop it on 'emmmmmmm....!!
(sound of airplane flying, then a baby crying)

I'd crank the volume on this song and scream that last Drop it on 'emmmmmm...!! The song felt and still feels like the grand howl, the terrible shriek of that otherwise quiet, goody-two-shoes kid who yelled in fury to the shock of everyone who knew me. Someday, I hope, I'll see The Wall performed live and I'll be able to scream out this line, adding my voice to the roar of the crowd.

The Dark Nighttime

2011-01-20T21:29:00.000-08:00

It was a dark night. Yep, one of those really dark nights where I lost track of time, where I even wondered if I'd died and was going through that after-death tunnel some people have talked about.

Spirits floated around my bed all calling to me, telling me my flaws and pointing out how wretchedly boring I am. My dog wouldn't stop farting (a side effect of her meds, she has lymphoma). I was wondering the following questions:

What is the point of it all?
Do I really want to continue on?
Nothing really matters, does it?
How am I going to make a living?
What the fuck ____? (insert what you want here)

I ran through all the usual major things like love, my writing, my friends and family, my desire to travel, and still I came up with the idea that nothing much matters in the universal scheme of things. Before I went to bed I was walking my dog. It was sometime after 2:00 am. I looked up at the clear sky, the twinkling stars (and they did seem to be twinkling a lot last night), and thought about how beautiful the night was. It made me cry and it wasn't even that cold.

I thought about how insignificant I am, destined to become one of the many hordes of common folk who aren't mentioned in history except as an "American" or part of the "American People," a phrase thrown around by politicians. I don't crave recognition or immortality but I sometimes wonder about the huge abyss that stands between superstars and the woman who's trying to cross the street with her dog without getting hit by a car. Of course, superstars are insignificant too. Their burn out so fast and fall so far that we can't help but notice them, for a time.

After coming up with the idea that nothing much matters I then thought about how I could turn the obvious downer that goes along with it into something positive, such as, if nothing matters then you are truly free. Some people discuss freedom and many others crave it but last night I realized that this is real freedom. It was about 4:30 am when I came up with this idea. I was feeling tired and loopy when I went off on this tangent and the few hours I'd spent embroiled with my own demons were really sinking me in the mire.

My own making, of course. I told myself I should just go to sleep and see what I thought of everything in the morning. I felt much better when I woke up but the realization that I had to make changes was staring me in the face. No longer can I coast along. It's time to get cracking. At least I've been steadily working on the writing, the most important endeavor of my life even if no one reads it. Doesn't matter. I'm doing fine in the grand scheme of insignificance. When no one notices you, it's possible to get away with certain things like living the life you want and sneaking around doing cool things instead of cleaning house and doing laundry.

I can't complain even with all negativity from a few hours earlier. I'm glad this dark nighttime is over.

NaNoWriMo 2010 - Finally Finished This Draft: 76,771 Words

2011-01-17T19:19:00.000-08:00

A few moments ago I finally finished the first draft of this post-apocalyptic novel ("beta novel") I've been working on. It took another month and a half to write the additional 25,000 words. Though I wrote the ending during the NaNo the story ended in a completely different way. The Epilogue is similar but the explanation of what's really happening surprised me. Very strange. I'm not sure what to make of it but now is not the time to figure it out.

What's going to happen next is I'll put this novel aside and work on getting the Historical novel ("alpha novel") going again. Hopefully I'll finish it by the end of this year. I'll be surprised if I finish it sooner than that. After I'm done with the alpha novel, I'll take another look at this beta novel and see what I think of the story and if it warrants more work.

I must say I'm very tired and I'd planned to finish this novel sometime by the end of the week but this afternoon it became clear I was on a good roll and ready to finish so I just plowed straight through.

I'm looking forward to working on the alpha novel again and eager to get started. It will be such a relief to go back to being immersed in that world again.

City Life: A Misty, Rainy Day in San Franciso

2011-01-14T00:35:00.001-08:00

Near Forest Hills Station on the walkway to Laguna Honda Hospital.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.4

Writing Life: Beginning, Break, Rapid (n.1)

2011-01-05T10:03:00.000-08:00

The Beginning:

I'm locked in my own head. This never used to bother me but it's been bugging me lately. I can't get outside myself so I can see and experience things from something other than my own perspective. There's imagination, sure, but that can only go so far, right? I struggle to learn new ideas, knowledge, and still I'm locked inside my own head.

I'm a prisoner, doomed to see everything through my own filter no matter what I do.

I'm spoiled with my own viewpoint. I'm inherently selfish and what's worse is I'm feeling self-confident. Why can't I stay humbled yet steady? This is what happens when you're in love with your own words and way of seeing things.

The Break:

There is no break, no frenzied shattering. It's just me sitting here at my computer, writing as usual. I'm not drinking heavily, doing drugs, losing my mind, nor any of the other things artistic types sometimes go through. It makes me wonder why there isn't a break going on with me. Perhaps I haven't been doing this long enough. Perhaps I'm not smart or imaginative enough. Perhaps I'm not experiencing enough torment and pain. I don't know.

All I know is I want to write, have to write, am going to keep writing. Nothing else matters. Not getting published, not if I need an agent, and not even whether anybody ever reads my novels. Eventually, I'll have to address these things but for now creating a polished body of work is the most important thing of all.

The Rapid:

I was going to write about my old life on the river with my ex. I was going to talk about how idyllic the river was during the summer and how it turned into the thundering brown monster when the riverbanks swelled in the wintertime rains, how we had to evacuate, how my ex couldn't hold it together. That was several lifetimes ago and I wore myself out just writing down this paragraph.

No, the Rapid is about simpler things like:

The city fog
The stairs going up the side of the mountain on my street
The Pacific Ocean which is only three miles away from here
The places I've been since then, the people I know and have met, the writing I've done

It's all so ordinary and selfish. I spread myself out in my mental mind. I wonder what am I missing? What am I not learning? At least I know what to leave behind, how important it is to move forward, and how I'm getting there even if I don't know the destination right now. I'm not bored, that's for sure, and the second half of my life spreads out in front of me like some wild feast with great food, great drinks, and so much good company. That's not a bad vision to end this Rapid with.

(n.1) Jo-Ha-Kyu (sp) is a concept in a wide variety of Japanese arts that has to do with modulation and movement. Jo-Ha-Kyu is roughly translated as "Beginning, Break, Rapid" and generally refers to the idea that things should begin slowly, speed up, and end quickly.

Writing Life/Movie Musings: What I Mean By "Ferment" And A Little Kurosawa Adoration

2011-01-04T00:04:00.000-08:00

I talk a lot about writing something down and letting it sit for a while to "ferment." This is certainly true of my NaNoWriMo novel I'm still working on. I've attempted several times to explain how this works but have never expressed the idea well. Imagine my delight when watching the last film in my Akira Kurosawa film survey, Ran, and finding a quote by the great director himself where he completely nails this idea:

I wrote [Ran] after Dersu Uzala and before the one for Kagemusha. Then I let it sleep in me. It's always a question of ripening, of time, of the duration of the gestation of a work. The definitive script for Ran is very different from the first one I wrote. The development of Ran is spread over seven years. When you write a script, even if you're conscious of its shortcomings, you can't easily change the contents of your own head, so you have to let things ripen, in an unconscious way. That's what I've always done. It's in the course of this ripening that things become simpler and become clearer.
- Interview with Akira Kurosawa in Positif (a French film magazine), October 1985.

I've said this before: after a years long survey of sixteen Kurosawa films which involved watching the films, watching the commentaries and accompanying documentaries, reading accompanying essays, reading Wikipedia entries, reading the appropriate section in the book I picked to accompany me on this journey, The Films of Akira Kurosawa by Donald Richie, I'm confident in stating that Kurosawa is the greatest director that ever lived. And it's not because one film or another (though you could probably make that claim for Seven Samurai alone), it's the entirety of Kurosawa's works. Getting familiar with his films and seeing how they progress in terms of viewpoint, story emphasis, acting, visual style, and message is enough to make me feel comfortable making this claim.

I'm still not done with Ran. I always watch film more than once from start to finish then go back and watch certain scenes I want to take a closer look at. I also watch all commentaries and always watch them at least twice. In fact when I saw Red Beard, I watched the film three times (twice in a row) and watched the commentary three times (twice in row).

Ran is the last Kurosawa film, at least for the purposes of this survey. I'll do a more complete blog post about this film journey when I'm finally done. I've already chosen my next film survey, the films of Luis Bunuel, though I need to select an appropriate book. Hopefully, it won't take me years to complete this survey.

It makes me very happy that at the end I find this lovely quote by the great director about "ripening." It beautifully expresses what I've been struggling to explain about my own creative process.

theatre sign in healdsburg, california

2011-01-01T15:41:00.001-08:00

In healdsburg, about two hours north of san francisco for wine tasting.

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Movie Musings: "What The Fuck Have You Done Lately?"

2010-12-29T00:03:00.000-08:00

***This blog post and its links contain spoilers for the movie Wanted
(in case you cared).***

The movie Wanted is a 2008 action movie starring Angelina Jolie, James McAvoy, and Morgan Freeman. It's loud, messy, and violent as all action movies are. I thought a reviewer described it best:

"Wanted may be the most absolutely stone bonkers, crazy-good movie of the century. Or it may be a gargantuan piece of trash. Chances are it's a combination of the two. But man, does it rock." - Tom Long, Detroit News, 2008-06-27 (reference noted in the link above).

After a couple of years I think the movie veers more towards the "piece of trash" reference but the movie does boast some impressive action sequences such as the opening sequence and the death of super assassin Mr. X, the red car chase scene with Jolie and McAvoy, and the scene where McAvoy goes on a shooting rampage through a textile mill. There's also the novelties of "curving" bullets by using a particular technique while firing them out of a handgun (impossible, if you didn't know that already), and Morgan Freeman saying the word "fuck." There's McAvoy rebelling against his bitchy boss and slamming his keyboard in his best friend's face. His best friend is screwing his girlfriend. That's a great scene, by the way, for anyone who's ever dreamed standing up to the people who really piss us off but we can't really do anything about. It's childish but this is only a movie.

For me, and the point of this post, the best part of the movie is the end. McAvoy's character, Wesley, who has been a passive nerd for most of his life, has been trained to be a super assassin and has stood up against those people who are using him for their own ends. During the ending sequence, he blasts through the fourth wall and lists his accomplishments. He ends by looking at the audience and asking:

What The Fuck Have You Done Lately?

After more than two years, watching this ending still gives me the chills. After more than two years, I still ask myself this question. I used to carry a 3x5 card around where I could see it with this sentence written on it. I've done the electronic equivalent by writing it down on a large post-it, photographing it, and turning it into my wallpaper on my Droid phone. When my marriage was falling apart a very good friend of mine gave me a new mantra. She said my new mantra was "Fuck It." This is just an extension of that mantra and much more useful.

I'm not trying to offend anyone here by asking this question. This is a question I ask myself. This question makes me think about what I've done lately and if it's in line with what I want my life to be like. It's too easy to get complacent. It's too easy to keep doing the same shit day in and day out. There are other mantras, nicer sounding ones certainly, but this one makes me want to grit my teeth and grab life by the balls. This one makes me actually want to do something with myself. It's an ongoing battle to stay alert and focused on what's important. If part of that process involves watching McAvoy's character glare at me and ask that question then I'm all for it.