apologies for not posting regularly. things have been somewhat hectic, what with the start of school and all.

i went to an ayso center referee training last week (5 hours), and got a crash course in reffing an under 8 game. so today, at my daughter willow's game, i practiced being a linesperson, and at the next game, watched as another parent reffed. to be honest, i'm terrible at keeping track of things... i had to verbally catalog in my head who touched the ball last ("pink", "purple"), along with an accompanying little gesture to associate the touches with a direction... and i still got things wrong sometimes. i also had a hard time NOT cheering for our team, especially when i wanted to give willow a heads up when the ball was coming her way... i eavesdropped on the conversation of the opposing team's coach, which i did not really appreciate; a bit too aggressive/competitive, if you ask me, particularly comments about willow's lack of skill and motivation...

after the whole soccer thing, we (the kids and i) went to aunty joan and uncle ferman's house in pearl city. willow's teacher had expressed an interest in learning how to carve narcissus bulbs, and uncle ferman is a true expert at it. so we invited her to come over to ferman's house to learn; she said she would, on the condition that we be there as well. so, while the kids were in the house, uncle ferman patiently taught willow's teacher and i how to carve the bulbs in the crabclaw style.

for those of you who are not familiar with narcissus bulbs... well, they start off looking like cloves of garlic, only whiter, and without the smell. it's possible to carve individual "cloves," and that's what we did at first. first, we peel off the skin, just as you would a clove of garlic. then, ferman showed us how to pay attention to the direction/orientation of the bulb to determine what sections were best to cut. he drew lines on the bulbs to show us where to cut: a line about half an inch above the roots, drawn "halfway" around the circumference of the bulb, joined to lines drawn along either side of the bulb all the way to the tip of the emerging bulb shoot. we used ferman's specialized exacto-knives to gently cut away layer by layer along these lines, until we exposed the green budding shoot...

the actual crabclaw carving is just an extension of this process onto a fully grown bulb/root system, with one big "bulb," and several lesser "bulbs" branching off... even if the narcissus doesn't grow naturally into the crabclaw formation that you want, you can use toothpicks to attach individual cloves to the sides of a big bulb...

ferman also made comments about the importance of sunlight/shade in growing the bulbs out. the narcissus, like many plants, will grow in whatever direction it needs to to get to light. so, it's important, once you carve the bulbs, to expose them to direct sunlight as much as possible. shade will cause the emerging bulbs to wind and wend their way to sunlight, creating an inelegant tangle...

i would like to learn so much more (so did willow's teacher), but you can't learn everything about this art in a few hours. i vow to videotape ferman doing a bulb carving for posterity's sake. he really is a cultural treasure, and a patient and meticulous teacher to boot...

***

had a dream about going back to williams, this time with my family, giving them a tour of my alma mater... funny, but having lived there for four years, i really seem to have sketchy memories of the place. i think that first month or so seemed to last forever, as the newness of it all started to burn in. i remember the sunlight being different, sort of liquid-y on those cold winter days, and with a beautiful sort of haze in even the sunniest days... the feeling of a stillness, full of potential... i remember the lonely parts, when i would try to explore the region by little misadventures by bus, into the nearby towns, usually to search for a place to buy music or videogames... the towns, i recall, had a lot of brick, red brick... department stores in the old style... and music stores that looked like they were from the 70's... i found edie brickell's new (then) album and recall listening to the songs intently as i rode in buses, surveying the territory... as a result, the scenery of those old rural towns of hardily constructed churches and glass-fronted nobody stores interspersed by trees and fields, all beneath that swimming sunlight, it is all associated with edie brickell songs, and in particular, the one about the 10,000 angels:

"10,000 angels, swimming through my heart
whispering secrets and tearing me apart...
and i say, 'come to me,
cause i need you now.
come to me,
i really want you.
come to me,
and i will go
anywhere with you.' "

i think there is something about being alone in a new place that is both beautiful and terribly lonely and sad... there have been many times in my life when i have been thrown/thrown myself into situations where i was alone in a new place, and each of these "opportunities," i recall, were both liberating and filled with a kind of longing. it was as though i were seeing beautiful secrets of the world, but having no one to share them with, it seemed as though it were all going to waste... i think that beauty has that dizzying effect at times, of putting you on a pinnacle of experience, and without someone to share it with, it can seem as though you have no way to reach anyone, to explain the things you have seen/experienced. in a way, then, beauty (and any solitary experience) distances you from others...

there were stairs behind my dormitory, passing nearby the gym, and this notable feature of architecture, a couple of columns with gaps near the top, dubbed the "ironic pillars," and beyond that, some kind of sandwich shop (can't recall the name). funny, but after buying the obligatory williams sweatshirt, i remember spending mornings trying to train myself, running up and down the stairs. in hindsight, i could have explored the town more fully, finding all of its borders, and where the college started to bleed into the surrounding countryside... but instead, i created small concentric circles in which to acquaint myself.

i think i am a man of religion. i create rituals. i trap myself in ruts in order to "deepen" my experience by wearing trenches into the soil... i find small enclaves of comfort, where i can hide myself...

like constantine's pizza, with the attractive greek girl deedee, who always gave me an extra slice and a smile, when i walked in with my outlandishly colored sweaters...

i am not sociable by nature, even though i often feel a desperate need for others, if only to serve as tethers so that i don't drift off into irresponsibility or madness...

well, enough of this rambling for tonight. i have a full day tomorrow (today); kids have violin at 9 (after a month long hiatus), and taiko at 1... maybe a swim lesson at 2:30... i think sometimes that we have overcommitted our kids, but then again, this is the phase when we should expose them to everything and anything... later, life will pare them down to the core of their hearts, just like the narcissus bulbs we carved today...