4:00 am, this is when i wake up spontaneously, have been for the past few days now. 3-5 am is supposed to be the time of the lungs, and i guess in agrarian societies, it'd be appropriate for someone to get up at this time, inhale their first drought of the new day's air... but for me, now, it seems inappropriate... maybe even pathological.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
woefully
i'm the practice horse
and i hold the kids each in turn
upon my saddle shins
my hands they hold
the grasping reins
i cue the secret words
to make me go
"giddyup" makes me start
and "woe" will bring me to
a screeching halt.
a "yee-haw" done with passion
will bring you
a sudden twelve inches
closer to the ceiling.
but they are growing heavy
in my hands
by the second it seems
and i am growing heavy too
and pretty soon
our nightly ride
before the goodbye goodnight
will be "closed for repairs
indefinitely."
the laugh and the scream
i hear it like the
old man i'll be
straining for its sound
long after it's gone.
time like this ride
so fast, and much as they
cry "giddyup" or "yeehaw"
the only word
never stopped for
is "woe."
and i hold the kids each in turn
upon my saddle shins
my hands they hold
the grasping reins
i cue the secret words
to make me go
"giddyup" makes me start
and "woe" will bring me to
a screeching halt.
a "yee-haw" done with passion
will bring you
a sudden twelve inches
closer to the ceiling.
but they are growing heavy
in my hands
by the second it seems
and i am growing heavy too
and pretty soon
our nightly ride
before the goodbye goodnight
will be "closed for repairs
indefinitely."
the laugh and the scream
i hear it like the
old man i'll be
straining for its sound
long after it's gone.
time like this ride
so fast, and much as they
cry "giddyup" or "yeehaw"
the only word
never stopped for
is "woe."
tired and dirt-e
... just got home a little while ago. i had to work on someone... i've been applying anatomy trains concepts (at least the basics), allowing it to inform my "routine." it's much more vigorous work, but at least it seems to have a purpose... moving fascia... adjusting for postural compensations...
on the way back, i kept singing decemberists' "16 military wives" and the song following, "engine driver." i really like both songs, but as i am really beginning to fall for the second... here are some lyrics:
"i'm an engine dri-ver
on a long run, on a long run
would i would beside her
she's a long one, such a long one...
and if you don't love me let me go.
and if you don't love me let me go.
...
i am a writer, a writer of fiction
i am the heart that you call home
i've written pages upon pages
trying to rid you from my bones, my bones..."
***
volunteered for a few hours at aiea intermediate, under my teacher, loan lim. she assessed the writing of her students today, and i got to score their work. they're all good kids, and i can see in some a rich creativity that is masked by poor grammar and abominable spelling... in my head, my dreamy idealistic head, i've been concocting methodologies to improve the "basics" beneath literacy and "writing"... i want to make things multisensorial, etc... but time? resources? we'll see if my ideals are realized, or if, like most things, they just burn me further into the ground.
***
a sadness... i don't get to be with lynn or the kids as often as i'd like... the yard is filling once again with the 5 o'clock shadow of weeds... neglect is an inevitable part of life... attention draws to each pressing problem, only to find that the dam is half-eaten away right behind my back...
gas and electricity and everything is getting more and more expensive. there's a panic in the air... i'm just running the same way i've done for years, inefficient and as "wasteful as an artist," but a reckoning's a coming, i'm sure... and where will my ideals be then?
***
ghosts are slowly drawing to me... or i am haunting them. facebook is a corpse magnet, a revenant's target... fascinating how the undead (like me) can keep going, even out of sight, out of mind... beautiful, rotting monsters, us all.
on the way back, i kept singing decemberists' "16 military wives" and the song following, "engine driver." i really like both songs, but as i am really beginning to fall for the second... here are some lyrics:
"i'm an engine dri-ver
on a long run, on a long run
would i would beside her
she's a long one, such a long one...
and if you don't love me let me go.
and if you don't love me let me go.
...
i am a writer, a writer of fiction
i am the heart that you call home
i've written pages upon pages
trying to rid you from my bones, my bones..."
***
volunteered for a few hours at aiea intermediate, under my teacher, loan lim. she assessed the writing of her students today, and i got to score their work. they're all good kids, and i can see in some a rich creativity that is masked by poor grammar and abominable spelling... in my head, my dreamy idealistic head, i've been concocting methodologies to improve the "basics" beneath literacy and "writing"... i want to make things multisensorial, etc... but time? resources? we'll see if my ideals are realized, or if, like most things, they just burn me further into the ground.
***
a sadness... i don't get to be with lynn or the kids as often as i'd like... the yard is filling once again with the 5 o'clock shadow of weeds... neglect is an inevitable part of life... attention draws to each pressing problem, only to find that the dam is half-eaten away right behind my back...
gas and electricity and everything is getting more and more expensive. there's a panic in the air... i'm just running the same way i've done for years, inefficient and as "wasteful as an artist," but a reckoning's a coming, i'm sure... and where will my ideals be then?
***
ghosts are slowly drawing to me... or i am haunting them. facebook is a corpse magnet, a revenant's target... fascinating how the undead (like me) can keep going, even out of sight, out of mind... beautiful, rotting monsters, us all.
Monday, August 4, 2008
decision to be compassionate
i've been thinking a lot about misperceiving children. if you're a parent (and even if you aren't), i'm sure you encounter situations where you, say, go to a park, and see other children, either with or without their parents... and, whether you're aware of it or not, whether you want to or not, you start judging those kids, measuring them against the yardstick of your own kids, or your idea of how kids should be. i know i'm guilty of this.
but since i'm studying special education, i've come to the realization that a lot of the kids that i'd label as "bad" or "wild" are the same kids i'll be seeing in the classroom context; in the latter environment, the labels will be different: ebd (emotional behavioral disorder) or adhd (attention deficient hyperactivity disorder) or autistic or whatever. and i won't have the luxury to blithely pass judgments on those children; i'll have to interact with them, motivate them, yes, in a certain sense, love them...
today, when i went to the "beautiful park" (nuuanu valley park) with the kids, there was a young boy (4 years old) whom i previously may have written off as adhd, or mildly ebd. in most situations, i'd politely keep willow and aiden away from the boy. but today, i just decided to examine the boy, and my feelings; also, willow's and aiden's interactions with him. willow and aiden are both naturally gregarious (very unlike me), and in addition to this, i think willow in particular is sensitive to "differences." in a way, i think willow cues into me, to how i react to the behavior of people. i responded to the boy in a polite way; he seemed to want to interact with me. eventually, i got him laughing (as i pushed him and willow and aiden on the swings), and later, both his older sister and he were drawing with chalk on the basketball courts next to willow and aiden, excitedly sharing and expressing themselves... i was proud of willow and aiden (and had developed a new appreciation for the boy, someone whom i'd have previously written off); they are naturally friendly, sharing, but not blindly so.
they say love is blind.
but compassionate is not. if anything, it is extremely clear-sighted. you look at people, look through your judgments of them, and see what is needed. and you respond to that need...
funny. i work on a lot of different people all the time. i never need to think about judging them, etc. but then again, i'm in a somewhat clear context, providing a specific, more or less physical service. i don't have to "push" people to do things they don't understand... if i become a teacher, it will be different... i must be extremely clear-sighted and compassionate...
but since i'm studying special education, i've come to the realization that a lot of the kids that i'd label as "bad" or "wild" are the same kids i'll be seeing in the classroom context; in the latter environment, the labels will be different: ebd (emotional behavioral disorder) or adhd (attention deficient hyperactivity disorder) or autistic or whatever. and i won't have the luxury to blithely pass judgments on those children; i'll have to interact with them, motivate them, yes, in a certain sense, love them...
today, when i went to the "beautiful park" (nuuanu valley park) with the kids, there was a young boy (4 years old) whom i previously may have written off as adhd, or mildly ebd. in most situations, i'd politely keep willow and aiden away from the boy. but today, i just decided to examine the boy, and my feelings; also, willow's and aiden's interactions with him. willow and aiden are both naturally gregarious (very unlike me), and in addition to this, i think willow in particular is sensitive to "differences." in a way, i think willow cues into me, to how i react to the behavior of people. i responded to the boy in a polite way; he seemed to want to interact with me. eventually, i got him laughing (as i pushed him and willow and aiden on the swings), and later, both his older sister and he were drawing with chalk on the basketball courts next to willow and aiden, excitedly sharing and expressing themselves... i was proud of willow and aiden (and had developed a new appreciation for the boy, someone whom i'd have previously written off); they are naturally friendly, sharing, but not blindly so.
they say love is blind.
but compassionate is not. if anything, it is extremely clear-sighted. you look at people, look through your judgments of them, and see what is needed. and you respond to that need...
funny. i work on a lot of different people all the time. i never need to think about judging them, etc. but then again, i'm in a somewhat clear context, providing a specific, more or less physical service. i don't have to "push" people to do things they don't understand... if i become a teacher, it will be different... i must be extremely clear-sighted and compassionate...
Sunday, August 3, 2008
"relevant"
because life in the social/cultural sense is the incessant desire to be "relevant," i thought i'd look up the etymology of the word. read below. note (or I note, because i'm primed for a bias and a take): 1) the association of "relevant" to a "lessening, a lightening"; 2) to "take possession of property"; 3) to "raising, lifting up."
oh yeah, before i forget, check out definition 2 below for "relief": "project from a flat surface"...
consider the town of mililani, its name ("look up"/"exalt"/"raise up"... (give up?)), and you may understand why i consider it "interesting" with regards to my hometown. and this pseudo-work of mine to "flesh out" my personal mythic archeology of this place...
my little quest to become "relevant."
all below from onlineetymology.com:
relevant
"pertinent to the matter at hand," 1560, from M.L. relevantem (1481), prp. of L. relevare "to lessen, lighten" (see relieve). Originally a Scottish legal term meaning "take up, take possession of property;" not generally used until after 1800. Relevance is from 1733 (relevancy in the same sense is recorded from 1561).
relieve
c.1300, from O.Fr. relever "to raise, relieve" (11c.), from L. relevare "to raise, alleviate," from re-, intensive prefix, + levare "to lift up, lighten," from levis "not heavy" (see lever). The notion is "to raise (someone) out of trouble." Reliever in the baseball pitcher sense is recorded from 1967.
relief (1)
"ease, alleviation," c.1330, from Anglo-Fr. relif, from O.Fr. relief "assistance," lit. "a raising, that which is lifted," from stressed stem of relever (see relieve). Meaning "aid to impoverished persons" is attested from c.1400; that of "deliverance of a besieged town" is from c.1548.
relief (2)
"projection of figure or design from a flat surface," 1606, from It. rilievo, from rilevare "to raise," from L. relevare "to raise, lighten" (see relieve).
oh yeah, before i forget, check out definition 2 below for "relief": "project from a flat surface"...
consider the town of mililani, its name ("look up"/"exalt"/"raise up"... (give up?)), and you may understand why i consider it "interesting" with regards to my hometown. and this pseudo-work of mine to "flesh out" my personal mythic archeology of this place...
my little quest to become "relevant."
all below from onlineetymology.com:
relevant
"pertinent to the matter at hand," 1560, from M.L. relevantem (1481), prp. of L. relevare "to lessen, lighten" (see relieve). Originally a Scottish legal term meaning "take up, take possession of property;" not generally used until after 1800. Relevance is from 1733 (relevancy in the same sense is recorded from 1561).
relieve
c.1300, from O.Fr. relever "to raise, relieve" (11c.), from L. relevare "to raise, alleviate," from re-, intensive prefix, + levare "to lift up, lighten," from levis "not heavy" (see lever). The notion is "to raise (someone) out of trouble." Reliever in the baseball pitcher sense is recorded from 1967.
relief (1)
"ease, alleviation," c.1330, from Anglo-Fr. relif, from O.Fr. relief "assistance," lit. "a raising, that which is lifted," from stressed stem of relever (see relieve). Meaning "aid to impoverished persons" is attested from c.1400; that of "deliverance of a besieged town" is from c.1548.
relief (2)
"projection of figure or design from a flat surface," 1606, from It. rilievo, from rilevare "to raise," from L. relevare "to raise, lighten" (see relieve).
waipahu bon dance; aunty kimi
tonight, we went to the waipahu taiyoji bon dance. i would have preferred going to the koganji bon dance in manoa, but lynn's dad and irene said they would be at the waipahu bon dance... we got there after 6, only to discover that the dancing and everything would only start at 8 pm! so we bought andagi, spam musubi, etc., and found some seats, and just hung out for roughly 2 hours... we had all dressed in our (pathetic) best for the bon dance. i was wearing this happi coat with a big black and white dragon on the back (as if i were worthy of such garish, attention-drawing attire!). my wife wore something similar, only it wasn't a real happi coat, it was only something that LOOKED happi... aiden was wearing his "crabby" jimbei, and a hachimaki with the "matsuri" character on it. and willow, she was the star of the show, wearing her red yukata, and with a pretty fan pin in her hair. the kids got bored, so they started making up their own dances on the broken asphalt. willow seems to have inherited her dance moves from me: she just kind of kicks up her heels and shoots her arms out, over and over again. kinda flailing. dangerous. like the way i dance. aiden, on the other hand, he just kept saying "rock and roll star" and laughing hysterically. lynn and i eventually convinced him to spread his arms and legs out like a real star, and do the "jazz hands" (from "bring it on")...
anyway, at one point, aiden and lynn went to get a bottle of water from the food stand. this old woman in a red and black happi coat was sitting with her friend in the two chairs next to ours. the woman was gazing at willow fondly. eventually, she mentioned that willow's yukata was tied the wrong way. sheepishly, i replied that my wife had done it (i'm such a jerk). anyway, the old woman helped me then and there; we untied willow's sash, redid the yukata (LEFT OVER RIGHT) and she artfully tied the sash properly (higher, and with three cycles around willow's body). i thanked her, willow thanked her, and then willow (as always) began a rambling conversation with the woman. the old woman, who introduced herself as kimiko, really took a liking to willow. she remarked at how articulate willow was, etc. before willow went out to dance (with me), kimiko noticed willow didn't have a towel, so she went through her bag, got out an extra, and hung it around willow's shoulders...
later in the evening, kimiko asked me, "are you a teacher?" i hesitated in replying, because i was worried the answer would be too complex. finally, i just said, "no, but i am going to school to get a master's in special education." kimiko seemed moved by this, wiping her eyes. i asked her why she had asked the question. kimiko said, "my husband was a special education teacher at aiea elementary. he was soft and kind like you." i was moved by this compliment; i told kimiko i was sorry when i learned that he had passed away a couple of years ago...
kimiko later mentioned that she had no children, no grandchildren, but she loved all children dearly. she really took a liking to willow. i wanted to ask her more, perhaps some contact info even, but it seemed inappropriate... at times, she seemed to withdraw whenever i asked her questions; and perhaps she was content just to be kind to a little girl whom she adopted (in her heart) as her own granddaughter... in any case, willow (and aiden) gave kimiko a big hug before we left that evening.
bon is a festival honoring the dead. celebrants dance around the tower in the center like leaves floating on a spinning whirlpool. the moves of the dance are best performed by those in the center; the periphery is occupied by clods (like myself) who half-jokingly mime the moves...
the dead visit the living in the bon; it is imagined that they watch, perhaps even appear in the motions of the celebrants...
i was thinking that, maybe for kimiko, our family, myself and willow in particular, were a kind of visitation from her husband: her regrets, her remembered hopes, everything... who says that the dead can only speak through dead and long forgotten things? the dead maybe embody in the face of a living stranger, or in the laughter of an innocent child...
memory and life, death and time, they are all like the whirling dance of obon, spinning around the center, where the music issues, keeping the rhythm, driving the dance...
anyway, at one point, aiden and lynn went to get a bottle of water from the food stand. this old woman in a red and black happi coat was sitting with her friend in the two chairs next to ours. the woman was gazing at willow fondly. eventually, she mentioned that willow's yukata was tied the wrong way. sheepishly, i replied that my wife had done it (i'm such a jerk). anyway, the old woman helped me then and there; we untied willow's sash, redid the yukata (LEFT OVER RIGHT) and she artfully tied the sash properly (higher, and with three cycles around willow's body). i thanked her, willow thanked her, and then willow (as always) began a rambling conversation with the woman. the old woman, who introduced herself as kimiko, really took a liking to willow. she remarked at how articulate willow was, etc. before willow went out to dance (with me), kimiko noticed willow didn't have a towel, so she went through her bag, got out an extra, and hung it around willow's shoulders...
later in the evening, kimiko asked me, "are you a teacher?" i hesitated in replying, because i was worried the answer would be too complex. finally, i just said, "no, but i am going to school to get a master's in special education." kimiko seemed moved by this, wiping her eyes. i asked her why she had asked the question. kimiko said, "my husband was a special education teacher at aiea elementary. he was soft and kind like you." i was moved by this compliment; i told kimiko i was sorry when i learned that he had passed away a couple of years ago...
kimiko later mentioned that she had no children, no grandchildren, but she loved all children dearly. she really took a liking to willow. i wanted to ask her more, perhaps some contact info even, but it seemed inappropriate... at times, she seemed to withdraw whenever i asked her questions; and perhaps she was content just to be kind to a little girl whom she adopted (in her heart) as her own granddaughter... in any case, willow (and aiden) gave kimiko a big hug before we left that evening.
bon is a festival honoring the dead. celebrants dance around the tower in the center like leaves floating on a spinning whirlpool. the moves of the dance are best performed by those in the center; the periphery is occupied by clods (like myself) who half-jokingly mime the moves...
the dead visit the living in the bon; it is imagined that they watch, perhaps even appear in the motions of the celebrants...
i was thinking that, maybe for kimiko, our family, myself and willow in particular, were a kind of visitation from her husband: her regrets, her remembered hopes, everything... who says that the dead can only speak through dead and long forgotten things? the dead maybe embody in the face of a living stranger, or in the laughter of an innocent child...
memory and life, death and time, they are all like the whirling dance of obon, spinning around the center, where the music issues, keeping the rhythm, driving the dance...
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