heard a prophecy today.

"You will set yourself apart from the majority, and thereby make yourself more useful to the majority, by your (study of the Chinese language)."

I met a nice couple at Lili's today over a discussion of the fantastic avocado melt I ordered. We chatted about my studies and my desire to learn Chinese in Taiwan, and that's when the man said that.

He actually did say the part in parentheses,
but I like to think I could fill that part in with many of things that I try to do and be.

Even though I know that variety and versatility are important (and for there to be variety, there must be deviation) and therefore it is vital that I pursue those things that interest and are within the abilities the particular person that I am ... his words encourage me to keep growing in the ways that seem best to me, and to grow with confidence.



Funny isn't it?

For as difficult as it can feel,

it is often the ways that we are different from others that make us more useful and more appreciable.



Go be yourself. It is very important.

On Your Porch

woke up this morning with The Format's On Your Porch playing in my mind. It seemed very appropriate.

(the video is one of those school project things)




I can hear it better now.





- edit -
(these started as comments, but I decided to move them to the main post:)

This song is making me feel like I really want something that I can't quite recognize or name or grasp, but that I already have, or will move into soon. And, I like the feeling. If there must be more than 1 world, (one of desiring and of having), then it is a soothingly anxious mix of both.

It fits my context.

... I like the feeling 'having' something without that being very dependent on the motion of time, or on exactly when in my life it actually appears.

There are quite a lot of things to appreciate, especially if I am not picky about 'time'.
For a creature like me that exists in one-dimensional time (at best), this is rather comforting.

Sprouted Lentils

Among the various inspirations I get from one of my friends has been the inspiration to sprout things.

I had some things that I believed to be green/brown lentils that I got from the bulk grains section of the Peoples' Food Co-Op

I had intended to make dahl sometime, but I noticed that the lentils were labeled 'sproutable'

so I took some of the dried lentils,



and placed them in a bowl completely submerged in water for a little over 12 hours. They absorbed a lot of water. Then I drained off the water and re-watered them, but draining off the water. I did this a few times now and then. This is just to keep them freshly wet.

In another 24 hours, they'd sprouted!




They're so excited about growing, I'm thinking of trying to plant some somewhere.
But they're also delicious and have a great texture, so I've been snacking on them pretty heavily...

The Subtle knife

(found folded between other papers in my room. This was probably written in the spring of '07 (or maybe late fall/winter of '06). I typed it all, including the lines I'd crossed out. I remember ...)

how to leave his room
the hall was level
but, held by an unseen leash
like a dog
I searched for the
world brought on by each
new step like a dog
nosing for holes in
a chain-link fence,

finding them, one by one,
I wedged through thin
air & labored toward
the hallway door like
a bicyclist winding
his way uphill.
Occasionally I'd stop to rest
Occasionally the leash would jerk
or the fence would be sharp

Though stationary,
I'd stagger a few steps to
the left or right to keep
what mental balance I
needed to take a few
deep breaths. Sometimes,
scuttling sideways brought
me up against the hallway
wall, where I could lean
for a moment against some
outside pressure before trying again
Walls are good to hold
oneself together with

I reach the door & push it open

There is a path leading to the left

- -

I take the right
I am free of the hallway
My decision to leave is more
certain (now as there is not)

But often

Sometimes immediately
outside, sometimes I
can get halfway up the
physical hill of the
path - before the same
hand which
marionette hand
which suddenly
extracts the water
from the pit of
my stomach out
through my bursting
pinhole eyes
cuts the strength/strings
to my legs
and drops me to my
knees
where I am
paralyzed until
I rouse an unknown
strength to alter
myself into a
different world
in which I am
allowed to stand
& even to walk
to my own room

( What I mean ...

... is that I'm trying to say, in so many ways, that sometimes, I desperately want to live. )

Arrows

I have spent years dwelling on this in search of words,
but perhaps it would be best to simply quote as well as I can remember.


---

Summer of 2006. June. In Los Angeles for our brief training and states-side orientation before heading to Cairo.

I was going on an IVCF Global Urban Trek to volunteer for Sudanese refugee schools in Cairo. IVCF (InterVarsity Christian Fellowships) is a Christian organization (and one which I appreciate the attitude of) so part of our time in LA was spent in readings, meditation and prayer, and gathering to worship together. On one of our last nights in the states, we had a worship service that had a lot of scheduled freedom at the end, encouraging us to use the time as we pleased - to sing, pray, pray in groups, wander about the room to different stations meant to provide encouragement, inspiration, and topics of prayer and consideration, etc ...

I remember a man - one of the leaders (and, if I remember correctly, writer of the book used for our content reading on urban slums) praying for several people in turn. I don't remember which of us asked, but he prayed for me as well.

I don't remember if I told him, but I had been asking God to help me use my freedom well, and to be functional as I was meant to be. I had felt that I'd taken some sustained psychological damage in the previous few years, and wanted desperately to be overcome useless obstructing fears, to be functional, to navigate the width, breadth and depth of my freedom, and be useful, and to guide my life in accordance with the will of God so as to better enable these things.

He placed his hands - I think on my shoulders - and prayed out loud.

I think he asked for healing, strength, direction, and
he said I was like an arrow - one that God could send, flying true towards its goal.


And yes - for years I have considered my circumstances (at times) in terms of the words chosen by this one man.
Maybe I wanted it to be true.


----

I believed in Love - and aligned myself with what I thought were the true and faithful practices of this belief.

I have tried to be true in the only way I know how, and I feel that this path has taken me through a length of damage and darkness, seeming at times to be unusefully detrimental and destructive.

It has been strange to think of God in the old ways.

I comfort myself with the thought that perhaps I am still en route to my target, and that dark and abrasive hell, easier to see with distance, has been a necessary obstacle.

What I asked with my eyes to the sky,

was whether it was really more like the way Venus played the Sybil, or all the gods - lying, deceitful, powerful, arbitrary, evil (she goes so far to say) ?


I still believe in the voice of the sky.

I Have Tasted Air Above the Clouds - afterwards

"This isn't the way it's supposed to be, but this is the way it was"

(Walking home after watching I Have Tasted Air Above the Clouds,
in which the life of the Sybil is twisted into tragedy, a strong ribbon wrapped around a pole of fate and discarded, for the sake of Venus' son, Aeneas)

I started to walk
and then,

I started to cry

Not teary eyed, but
real,

rare sobs that
choked in my throat
and gasped from
my chest.

I asked the sky
with my eyes,

Whether that had been at all like the aim of my arrow -
the flight of my fate
- if it was at all like that - the way things work?
A meddling of divine intentions and arbitrary cruelty in the name of destiny? If no intentions, then can I say forces? Would randomness be preferable, or even different?

The stars behind their cloudy night: reassurance



What does it mean to say I still believe in God?

There was something I believed, and in ways, I still believe it.




It makes more sense suddenly, to talk about believing in someone else's God.
The God of Abraham or Isaac .. or the God of Rich Mullins, or of Ken, the guy I worked with over the summer, or the God as I thought of God in my former years.

What do we know of God except what we believe (What do we believe except what we know of God)? It makes sense to learn from the what others' beliefs of the God they see illuminates. They model the possible.



(This has not explained what caught in my chest)

I Have Tasted Air Above the Clouds - some quotes

This is not the way it's supposed to be, but this is the way it was.



Sybil

Apollo comes upon me too quickly -

I can't breathe

[...]

and now I am screaming, but it is his moan [...] I am saying his words, and the men are nodding, because I am a prophetess now.


I keep thinking of the fish ... and how they reached for the sea with their triangle mouths... If I were a fish, my gills would be pushing against the air.

I am screaming,
I am screaming like a fish in a net.


After the first time, I feel nothing,
and under the nothing, there is dirt.


I am a prophetess, and a priestess of Apollo - and men sail for hundreds of miles... to see - me !






Although it has broken me -- broken me and remade me -- part of me is not shattered. I protected my brother and Atta.

I Have Tasted Air Above the Clouds - Writer/Director's Note

I Have Tasted Air Above the Clouds is a thesis project written and directed by Mic Parker, showing this weekend.

I'm not going to try to explain what I thought of the production here, but the following are worth quoting:

The blurb description from the website:

"She was the most famous prophetess of the ancient world. A word from the Cumaean Sibyl averted war, exposed traitors, razed cities to the ground. One of the most powerful women ever and one of the most powerless. This modern adaptation of Virgils Sixth Book of the Aeneid tells the story like you've never heard it before, incorporating music, dance and the enduring strength of one of history's unsung heroines."


And what I assume to be the Director's note from the back of the program:

"This show is a gift. Like many of the gifts we select for one another, it might not quite be your color. Further, I won't be at all surprised if the fit isn't universal. And since we wrapped it ourselves, you might sometimes see my fingerprints, or those of my cast or crew, in the tape. I fear that this gift is a little to early for some and, much worse, a little too late for others.

However, like any true gift, this show has its origins in a very real love and admiration. Love, first, for the Cumaean Sibyl, a minor character in Virgil's Aeneid who has been virtually ignored by generations of otherwise very intelligent scholars, artists and playwrights. As Aeneas' guide through the underworld, the Sibyl is a small but fital part of the legend of the last prince of fallen Troy. Without her courage and indomitable spirit, Aeneas undoubtedly would have died at the mouth of Hades. He never would have founded Rome and we would say instead that, "all roads lead to Carthage." Ah, the horror.

This show is a gift, then, for a mythical character whose story I felt needed desperately to be told. But it is also a gift for the very real women who are, even today, living in isolation, terror and constantly thwarted hope. You see, Sybils still exist: one out of every two women in America will, at some point in their lives, be abused by their partners. Sibuls still exist: there were 72,032 reported cases of domestic abuse or rape against women last year. So what is truly a myth is that we no longer need to fight this problem. Though the Sibyl's story is a tragic one, no more stories need be tragic.

So, this is a gift to my beautiful mother and sisters. To my kind and compassionate friends, coworkers and acquaintances, new or old. This show is a gift for you, if you need it. If you are the victim of domestic abuse, please know that you are not alone and that the situation is not hopeless. If you are in danger, or you know someone who is, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-8000-799-7233 (SAFE)."

Thoughts on categorizations of the gender spectrum ?

The Asian Reporter" is a really interesting news source! It covers a broad variety of topics relevant to various Asian interests for readers in Portland.

In this issue, there are some articles about transgendered people (and their rights in other asian countries). The transgendered people and those lobbying for them were advocating for recognition of a 'third gender', and it seems to have catalyzed some thoughts in me, so here they are:

Disclaimers:
First, I should say I am not a transgendered person. I feel very comfortable marking female on forms and such. But, I sympathize with others' desires for a societally-valid identity. Also, what I'm thinking about here is probably a different matter from a biological standpoint, but I ignore that for now since I'm mostly considering gender identity from a standpoint of social construction. (Yes, I know that biological isn't completely separate from this)


Ok, Thoughts:

When I hear people talk about recognition of a 'third gender' (or similar topics), I can't help but think that perhaps the perceived need for another gender identity option is because the expected roles, personalities, and characteristics associated with Male/Female are too narrow. This would certainly cause a person who knows themself and desires to be true to themself to identify with neither category, thus creating a perceived need for a third category.

(Perhaps I am wrongly thinking of this third category as an Other to the binary Male, Female)

But, ... if I am not too far off, then why can't we just have acceptably broader categories of Male and Female?

The reason I wonder this is partly also because I don't feel very conventionally female.

I am definitely biologically female, but for most of my life, I have tended to prefer friendships with guys and have been interested in things that are more often associated with males - sports, logical and abstract thinking, .. and have not been interested in the activities usually associated with girls, to the extent that some girls have commented that I am weird, and chose not to invite me to their things (which was fine by me, because they're probably right). But, I don't see any of this as conflicting with my identity as female.

Now, .. if the female category was so ridiculously limited as to suggest that I was only really female if I adored the color pink, wanted a pony, and did not wish to study mathematics, (and if I could only be male if I wanted a cool car or something) then I would probably require a third gender option as well.

So I'm wondering - in order for those who do not self-identify as Male or Female to establish an accepted identity, do we really need a third category? Or do we need as a society to broaden the kinds of identities that are acceptable under the categories of Male / Female?


My thoughts here are coming down to the question:

When we check the M, F, (or Other) box on a form...

Who wants to know, and what does that even mean?
What information are we providing?
Is it biological?
demographic?
psychological?

Are there only pre-set characteristics that I am allowed to have as a person if I chose to check a box?


... is it any better for someone who does not identify as Male or Female to be lumped into a category like 'Other' ?

Beloved

I have been thinking of that "Anything dead coming back to life hurts" quote a lot recently ..

..
mostly I think, because I don't hurt ..?

Gun to the head?

(We had earlier discussed how he set about his work like he had a gun to his head)

I felt familiar with this workstyle, but then there came a time -

there were extenuating circumstances that I proved unable to abort,
and so I picked up my head
and dropped my hands
and I dared them to shoot,
not caring about the consequences, but only wanting to stop.

And, there was only silence.
And the other people talking. Doors opening and closing. The wind through the trees. And bicycles passing by.

And so I went on my way.

I have felt resistant to putting myself back in that mentality, since I have unfortunately learned to call my own bluffs, and since I doubt they will actually shoot.

But, now and then I wonder if maybe its just that all those bullets I've defied are waiting for me to walk into them in the future.

discolored

Several months ago:

The dudes had again confirmed each others' coolness.

"Yeah, pound it," one proffered a fist.

"Respect knuckles." was the matched response.

"Not respect," corrected the first in an expanded gesture of brotherhood , "Love."


"Love without respect?" I interrupted.

They turned to acknowledge me out of the haze of their coolness and still using their cool voices, "Yeah." heads bob.

"So," I meddled further, "abuse?"







"Ha- .. uh ..." In the long silence, their eyes searched the air above our heads for a good reply before admitting defeat: "yeeeaah ... There's no way to make that funny."

I felt like I had spoiled something.

quotes from Spoon River (part 2)

continued from the envelope -
because you have to chew your gravestone poetry slowly now.


Louise Smith

Do not let the will play gardener to your soul
Unless you are sure
It is wiser than your soul's nature




Fiddler Jones

I ended up with forty acres;
I ended up with a broken fiddle -
And a broken laugh,
and a thousand memories,
and not a single regret




Emily Sparks

My boy, wherever you are,
Work for your soul's sake
That all the clay of you,
and all the dross of you,
May yield to the fire of you,
Til the fire is nothing but light!
Nothing but light!




Herbert Marshall

This is life's sorrow"
That one can be happy
only where two are,
and that our hearts are
drawn to stars
which want us not.

quotes from Spoon River (part 1)

It must have been about this time last year - I used my public transit commute to voraciously read a number of books I'd been meaning to get around to. I also meant to write thoughts and reviews about those books - but unfortunately for my personal documented history - that was when I wasn't really writing. I have been meaning since then to recover the quotes I recorded from whatever notebook I was writing in at the time.

I might as well start with the quotes scrawled on the envelope I just found on my desk.
These are taken from their larger context, but read these quotes as you would read the inscription on a headstone in a graveyard grown heavy with generations.



George Gray

To put meaning in one's life may end in madness,
But life without meaning is the torture of restlessness and vague desire -
It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.



Mary McNeely

Passer by,
To love is to find your own soul
Through the soul of the beloved one



Ernest Hyde

For this is the birth of the soul in sorrow,
A birth with gains and losses.
The mind sees the world as a thing apart,
and the soul makes the world at one with itself.
A mirror scratched reflects no image -
And this is the silence of wisdom.



Ezra Bartlett

... only when after many trials for strength,
Only when all stimulants fail,
Does the aspiring soul
By its own sheer power
Find the divine
By resting on itself

Flower!

Flower can be a verb.



Flower!

- Lloyd J Reynolds

responsibility for the gift

During daylight, I had considered the people of various ages, social maturities, and conduct that I've encountered. It seemed that, even if one is well-intentioned, there's still no substitute for experience and for the way we all learn from each other how to navigate as a collection of individuals.

The words incubated until dark, and I had to crawl halfway out of my bed the other night to find a pen and the back of a business card so that I could scrawl out the thought before it was submerged in the unconsciousness behind my eyes:


To be able to care about someone

is not just a permission,

but an acquired skill

I can stop if I want to ?

Things that are hard to stop eating until it's gone, in the order I can think of it:

- sticky rice (the sushi kind, with rice vinegar)

- pickled ginger

- olive oil and salt (and pepper)

- roasted, unsalted peanuts

- raw walnuts

- certain colby cheeses

- coconut oil

- salted butter

- roasted garlic

- grilled onions

- The Californian from Otto's (I think it's the bacon)

- quinoa

- pumpkin curry at Tom Yum

- butter-garlic sautéed button mushrooms (I call it vegetarian escargo -- vegan if you replace butter with olive oil)

- cod veronique a la Lili

- good peanut sauce

Authority

What is authority?

When someone is given the power to lead - organizing and directing the actions of many towards a larger intention by whatever means they see fit - how do they choose to use it? What are they limited by? Why do people follow?




Eric Whitacre conducts the world premiere of Cloudburst

梅花

不怕難，不怕冷。


(In Chinese culture, plum trees are one of the 'three friends of winter' because their blossoms emerge even while there is still snow on the ground. The plum flower then, is a symbol of strength and resilience in the face of difficulty)

That's how they do it, those 梅花.. I am remembering now.
They emerge amid snows, but see and have faith in something farther off. Their trees have a vision of a better time that they prepare for. They do not feel just the winter around them, but the unseen spring crawling over the curve of the earth, which they know in their roots to be true. This does not prevent them from recognizing the winter, but they appreciate the winter in its larger context, and they anticipate beyond the horizon. They see something else coming, and are willing to endure to get a good start and meet it.

This is how I will tell my heart "No" when it asks. I think it swallows this rejection because the reply is dramatic enough to be a little indulgent.

keep walking.
This adventure gets dark and slimy sometimes, but I am finding things here. I think I am finding the right path again.

Thanks to Sam for the thoughts and music.

girl. (keep moving)

As a girl in math/computing, I am generally surrounded by guys - and ones who seem to readily accept me and my abilities, at that.

Gender imbalances have historically not bothered me personally, as I tend to feel more socially at home among guys anyway. But, in the last few years, I think I have learned to look down on myself, even though I suspect that actually, my fellow nerdy gentlemen readily view me as an academic peer.

Even though I feel aware of this, it is sometimes difficult to overcome,
and to remember that we all have various insecurities regardless of gender.

I can work to improve my own abilities, self-conduct, and my own opinion of my character, independent of my biological disposition.
I just have to avoid feeling discouraged enough to stop moving forward.

The Talking Parcel

The identity I acquired in my childhood years! I found some of it! This (and other shows featured on Tales of Long Ago and Far Away) has flavored me ever since I've been able to remember things!

Walk Away?

The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas
by Ursula K. LeGuin

and, I reply:

if I was crying, it was for freedom

*What does your life love?

how?

and, if you dare ask, why?


thanks to the Lyrik ambience for the inspiration

some words to start off the New Year

From the Portland newspaper The Asian Reporter , quoted from the article "Oregon's birthday and St. Val's Day on Lunar New Year"

The writer (seemingly of an Indonesian family) first reflects on some of his thoughts regarding the confluence of these three celebrations and how they all came together for him as he was driving the loop around the river, around and around, a regular routine to calm himself after a busy week. As he drove, he imagined seeing a little old woman in the back of his car - his aunt - who had saved his life when he was young by inserting herself into a fight when some other boys had, in an ethnic or racially-induced fit of rage, attacked the writer. She shielded him with her body, taking the blows intended for him that had built up over hundreds of years of racial tension. When he was ready to acknowledge her in his vision, she spoke to him. I thought she had some very good advice, so as he shared her words, so I share them too:


"Time to see it right ...

For too-too long, you remember only wrongs. Only those ugly boys. And every next wrong, every next mean man or bad woman brings out of your bones that ugly time. Swelling your heart. Nothing right can come to you, Joh. Not til you get this right. Not til you let go those boys and you come to me ...

... Forget them. Remember what I gave you. My love for you. My gift. Your life.

And when you let go of them, Boy -- you will see gentle men and sweet women everywhere. Every time. And you are ready for kindness. And more kindness.

Here's what I want you to do, Joh --

These three things you must remember. Three things you must tell your friends. Your enemies too. Listen carefully, Boy.

For our first seven days of Lunar New Year: Think only good thoughts. It's hard. But try. Think only good.

For seven days, say only good things. This is easier. You control what comes from your mouth. You do.

And for New Year's first seven days, do only good deeds. This is easiest of all. Easiest if your thoughts are good and your words are kind. Easiest because everyone will return your kindness. Everyone except demonio, bad kids, and bad dogs."

Pocket-Watch Surprise (anime, anime, and ... where did the time go?)

I am very happy that my brother is now blogging his accumulated and digested opinions on good anime. Here is the first post, Stolen Hours of Pocket-watch Surprise.

I'm excited that he will be discussing animes both that I already love and that I have not made time to appreciate yet. And, I'm looking forward to an exhaustive list (with opinions) of quality anime, especially since I have introduced him to the addictive 'Summit' inter-library loan system...

You may be thinking 'Anime? really? are you serious?"

Yes.
I believe that anime is one of the more profoundly versatile media for expressions and struggles of the human soul and condition. Good anime is a breathtaking journey in visual poetry. And yes, that goes for graphic novels and comics as well.
It is a goal of mine to have a well-versed and thorough repertoire of quality comics, graphic novels, and anime / 'cartoon' media. As a genre, it represents an significant, though often sidelined, body of literature.

My brother and I share a deep appreciation for good anime, though he has made it's study a higher priority. I think we were both inspired by a chance viewing of Miyazaki's Princess Mononoke in our earlier years, so we have high standards.

As my brother says, "Not all anime is full of strangely drawn, over exaggerated characters who just power up over and over and stare at each other in combat while hurling cheesy insults at each other. That is not the anime that I will be looking at.

I will be trying to cut through the crap and get anime that means something. That is beautiful. At the VERY least, has a good story."

True Colors

Hey.



When I was in elementary school - like, first or second grade or so, this elementary school guidance counselor woman would come in, and teach us elementary social wisdoms with her puppets - a dolphin and an otter, whose names I can remember pronouncing but have no idea how to spell. I've actually thought about some of those early lessons a lot as I've grown.

I remember her repeatedly encouraging us to be unique, because unique was good and made us special in our own ways - and we should understand that everyone is unique.

I learned that unique was good and also to be appreciated in others. It seemed like an easy fact. What took me longer to learn was that in some ways, it is 'safer' to be like everything else, and so, 'unique' must also be encouraged and expressed from within myself, even if at odds with my surroundings. It is a choice, and sometimes it is not easy.

Even though I wrote a speech for high school graduation about the necessity of guiding oneself beyond what "they" say (because, if everyone listened to "them", then how would we ever get anywhere new?), I am still learning and practicing what it means to choose and cultivate a uniqueness, and to own and assert the sense of person that I am - even when it seems to disagree with the usual accepted expectations.

( In fact, I think this may be when it is most important to follow a sense of personal uniqueness - if I'm doing it honestly, people seem to react mostly out of curiosity. Besides - they all want to be themselves anyway, so I think that if I assert myself as an individual, that this can be enabling for other people, too )

Also, uniqueness does not mean being all things. I have had friends remind me, at various (and necessary) times that I cannot be everything to everyone. Perhaps it has to do with maturing further, but I feel that as I specialize as a personality and make choices about the person I want to become, I must recognize that if there are some things that are particularly like me, there are also things that are not me - and both of these are aspects of who I am. My sense of self demands that I represent both honestly, though there be varied consequences.

Recently, a good friend of mine shared a couple versions of this song with me. They were important to him, and that importance made me think twice about what it meant to me. This is what I've been reminded of.

So, go be the things you are, or that you want to be. How else will anyone be able to see you?

Being a particular and unique personality inevitably means being 'different', and this can take a lot of courage, both to discover and to assert (to yourself and to others). But, don't you like meeting people who are not like anyone else you've ever met? If you don't assert your own sense of individuality and creativity of person - then how can you expect anyone else to?
Go be the things you are. It's very important, and only you can do it.

I'll try to take my own advice too.

It's a courage that we will all (quietly) share.

Thanks.

Awe - capella

Some a capella best ev's:

(but first, do your 'reading')

1) Poker Face

"Poker Face" Lady Gaga music video

********************
A Capella!

- UCB Noteworthy -





************************************************************************************************************************





2) Umbrella

"Umbrella" Rihanna ( ft. Jay-Z ) music video

*******************
A Capella!

- Duke's Men of Yale -




(with choreography)






************************************************************************************************************************




3) Annie Waits

"Annie Waits" Ben Folds music video

*******************
A Capella!

- A-Men -

diff'rent strokes?

"What's this?" he asked, picking up my jar of coconut oil.

"Coconut oil!" was my obvious and enthusiastic reply.

"Oh!" he said. And then, "Where I'm from, people use this to put in their hair."

"Oh." I said. "I like to eat it."

He looked suddenly at me, at the coconut oil, back at me again, and laughed.
It was funny.

Lyrik: Food Art Drink

The Fine Grind on 39th has recently become LYRIK. I was attracted by the stylishly drawn words and image of a small floating monster. Also, I needed to get out of the house and go somewhere else to work. I'd never been to the place while it was still the Fine Grind, so I can't compare, but I was pleased with what I found on my adventure today!


There's a great assortment of weird and art on the inside, complete with lots of counter/table space and windows a-plenty so that even the gray daylight of January Portland provided pleasant natural lighting. Lots of little notices and cards for the taking to alert people to art shows and craft nights.




baked goods: fresh ones for $2, day-olds for $1. This large walnut/cranberry scone gave me something to munch on for a good while.




hot chocolate:



I test hot chocolate everywhere I get a chance, and I was sad that my hot chocolate here tasted very much like chocolate syrup. *Edit: I found out that they use Ghirardeli chocolate sauces. If you like Ghirardeli chocolate sauce, then this is great news. However, I am somewhat particular about what makes good hot chocolate good, and I guess this is not on the list. It has a weird sweetness, I think. They used to use Monin flavors for chocolate, but people seemed to prefer seeing Ghirardeli. They still use Monin flavors for other things though. I am going to have to find an excuse to get the irish cream flavor in something.

Good news though - I have been becoming more agreeable to the taste of coffee. So maybe next time I'll have to try a mocha nutmeg whatever whatever.






bagel sandwich:

Oh, this was great. The breakfast sandwich menu is both extensive and easily adaptable. I got a toasted everything bagel with cheddar cheese lathered on and a beautiful fried egg right in the middle, plus the extra tomato slice I asked for. Warm toasty cheesy egg bagel goodness, with tomato. Yes, it was a pretty standard breakfast bagel sandwich, but it was a very solidly well-done standard breakfast bagel sandwich!



I know what I'm getting next time I'm there for lunch. There's a sandwich with my name on it!





I've never really done the coffee shop thing, but with it's endearingly border-insane artsy-ness, Lyrik is such a Portland coffeeshop. I will miss places like this whenever I get around to going elsewhere.



I have decided that the city of Portland is not unlike a small, cuddly monster, as far as city personalities go.

rar fox

Here are my notes (collaborative) from one of the Languages and Compiler Design lectures.

The notes start at the top left and proceed clockwise around to the bottom right.



If I did more of this kind of thing, I would want to create a short video that showed their sketched progression.

regenerate

.....


And with the winter came snow, rains, darkness, and ice. But, the resourceful earth hid away her life deep within her, underground where the winter could not reach. And so, the life endured, awaiting again the touch of sunlight to emerge.

....



Today, I noticed the trees growing their soft spring fur coats.














Walking across the front lawn, I met an Olde CoOper from my former life. We caught up with each other a bit and savored the old memories over the music and new scent of spring wafting from the lovely flowers perched characteristically atop her guitar. We passed the guitar back and forth, singing of freight trains, wagon wheels, and the home we called home.





Eventually going our ways, I felt brighter - as though a piece of me gone dead or faded had been touched and re-enlivened, and I remembered. I am always forgetting important parts of myself. I feel fortunate to encounter reminders and have my important components touched 'back to life'.


You know those games, like capture-the-flag, where there is a jail? And once in jail you have to wait for a teammate to rescue you and tag you to resurrect you back to the game?

Have you seen the movie 9?
I won't spoil it for you, but I do like the character division and development.

see how you like it, human: Turing Test 2

The Turing Test is a test of artificial intelligence by which a computer and a human interact, with the computer 'trying' to seem like a human, and the human trying to determine whether he is interacting with a computer, or with a real fellow human being - an unforgiving game of 'Bot or Not?'

Fellow Reedies tell me that a fellow Reedie contributed to this stroke of sheer plot twist brilliance (..no I haven't gotten very far). Man versus machine just got a whole lot more 'meta'.

Try it!

Play Turing Test 2

Perhaps we will empathize with the machines after all.

play to lose

Have you ever played Apples to Apples?

It is a pretty fun game in which a different person takes turn being the 'judge' in each round. So, the way you play is largely dependent on the personal preferences of who is judging that round, which can be pretty arbitrary. It can sometimes be very hard to decide which cards to play.

I recall one game in which, not feeling like I had any good idea of how to win, began an experiment to intentionally lose. I began playing to lose. I played the cards that I thought were worst suited to the round being played. This strategy was a lot of fun, put absolutely no pressure on me, and had the interesting side-effect that I began to win.



I've been considering that this might not be a bad strategy to apply to other areas of my life. Depending on the context, it could even be advantageous. There are many many adventuresome, interesting, and creative ways to lose at something, many of which may have gone entirely unconsidered thus far.

Play to lose your heart, your mind, .. In the New Testament, Jesus tells people to play to lose their lives, saying that this is the only way to really gain something. I am not advocating anything destructive, but I guess I'm just trying to say that, maybe losing isn't as bad as it sounds. .. Has possessiveness ever gotten anyone anything good? Maybe it's not what you thought it would be anyway.

And then, it becomes a whole different game...

Oh yeah ... !

Math is hard.

But, (sometimes) I can do it!

39th vs Cesar E Chavez

La dee da, walking towards the bus stop to go to class one day, and...



.. What's this? I'd heard the talk in years past, but, are they really doing it?



Yes. It seems that after all the talk and little 'Save 39th' signs stuck in peoples' yards, 39th Avenue is actually being renamed! Unfortunately, I didn't have my good camera on me, and it wasn't very convenient to try to get a picture of both the Cesar E Chavez sign and the 39th sign. I think that '39th' is probably even too blurry to show up in these pictures... but it was a small historic moment, and I was there. I tried climbing onto the walk-signal buttons, but when they asked me to get off, I resorted instead to requesting that they tip the sign on their truck so that I could take a picture of with both signs at the same time.

They amiably complied, but pointed out that the two signs will remain side by side for a minimum of 5 years as part of the name-changing process.

So, why are we changing the name of 39th Avenue, which has developed its own very-39th Portland personality and is beloved by residents and small storefronts bearing those familiar numbers?

I have no idea.

I assume that it probably has something to do with honoring members of our society who are not white, but to me, it looks more like a bandwagon.

I feel that if a community is going to rename a road in honor of some distinguished member of society, ... then that should be done gladly and willfully by those people. I have noted a marked lack of gladness and willfulness about this road name change. My first thought is that this seems counterproductive for the purpose of honoring the individual for which the road is being renamed, and my second thought is, .. Really, Portland? I know it's cool to think that Cesar E Chavez was a neat dude, and probably in the distant future, the road will be as uncontroversial as MLK Blvd, but I suspect that Portland is not really honoring him, but rather earning PC points.

In that case, if we had to rename a road to show our enthusiasm for diversity, I would've much rather chosen one of Portland's own. There are plenty of non-white people who helped build the city that is Portland today. I would have liked to honor one of them, ... but not by changing 39th.


Since my own opinion lacks information,
Here are some relevant articles:

Last Summer.

A Year Ago.

Two Years Ago (it could have been a different road!)

good to know

I'm tired. It's late. again. My small world is an island of illuminated table-top that recedes off into the fuzzy dark of time and space beyond.

I compulsively drink water out of a large library mug and use a certain set of songs to influence my consciousness and associated abilities. There is too much to do on all sides, and I am not doing it quickly or efficiently enough. There is a lot of future out there that I am unprepared for. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know if I will be proud of my work, or if I will have the resources to do work that I will be proud of. I cannot consume this avalanche of information, experience, and opportunity quickly enough.

But, although it sometimes seems like a treadmill, I am going somewhere.
And, in this margin between days, pressed among responsibilities on all sides, I am still functioning.
I think I feel happy.

This is good to know.