i can't help it
my shadows lick the pavement
no matter how hard i try to levitate.
and my alveoli drinks in
the exhaust of the world
until it raises lead levels in my blood
plumbs me to this earth.
i want to be not of this world
but, let's face it,
i didn't land here in a meteorite
or spontaneously pop into a virgin womb
i couldn't see my face
before my parents were born
because the riffling of the dealing cards
couldn't, can't, be counted.
i am the luck of the draw,
and the luck tastes of spades.
peter pan cut his shadow
and floated on the dandruff of pixies.
but the world, this world,
THIS ever ever land,
loves me too much to allow me
a flirt with a dream;
so, reluctantly,
i've no choice but to be faithful to it.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
blog-addict: disclosure
yes, i am becoming a blog addict.
first thing i do is check my blog, see how it looks. yes, it looks like the same piece of crap it was when i last checked a few hours ago.
then, i check my profile. it counts up no matter what bozo (me, for example) looks at it, so because of my frenzied narcissistic acceleration, it could go up 10 every day. whoohoo, someone is checking me out (i'm really like a dog excitedly chasing his own tail).
then, i click on to see other bloggers in hawaii. on occasion, i'll check out someone else's blog, if it happens to look interesting... and some of the time, it is. TOO INTERESTING. which makes me somewhat paranoiac regarding my OWN content (which is pretty hit or miss, usually miss). and that leads me back to checking out my blog again. writing SOMETHING interesting in my not-so-interesting life.
this, i realize, is the danger of blogging. instead of actually experiencing life, i try to reproduce it, in such a way that it is "presentable," "storied," etc. when actually it's not. it's just random and boring nine tenths of the time. and that's the nine tenths that i actually pay attention to.
this is my disclosure, my disclaimer. really, believe it or not, my life is EVEN MORE BORING AND POINTLESS than this blog pretends it isn't!!!
READ NO FURTHER!!!
first thing i do is check my blog, see how it looks. yes, it looks like the same piece of crap it was when i last checked a few hours ago.
then, i check my profile. it counts up no matter what bozo (me, for example) looks at it, so because of my frenzied narcissistic acceleration, it could go up 10 every day. whoohoo, someone is checking me out (i'm really like a dog excitedly chasing his own tail).
then, i click on to see other bloggers in hawaii. on occasion, i'll check out someone else's blog, if it happens to look interesting... and some of the time, it is. TOO INTERESTING. which makes me somewhat paranoiac regarding my OWN content (which is pretty hit or miss, usually miss). and that leads me back to checking out my blog again. writing SOMETHING interesting in my not-so-interesting life.
this, i realize, is the danger of blogging. instead of actually experiencing life, i try to reproduce it, in such a way that it is "presentable," "storied," etc. when actually it's not. it's just random and boring nine tenths of the time. and that's the nine tenths that i actually pay attention to.
this is my disclosure, my disclaimer. really, believe it or not, my life is EVEN MORE BORING AND POINTLESS than this blog pretends it isn't!!!
READ NO FURTHER!!!
scaffolding? or cowardice?
i have circled a few of my stories like a vulture. yes, that means that, as they currently stand, they are like rotting corpses. dead. and stinky. and for a while now, i have continually promised that i would do something about them, just so that i could finish this project called marsilani. but- it's just so impossible!!!
one of the writer's guides i tend to believe in says that it is best to rewrite works IN THEIR ENTIRETY when in early stages of reworking. and, despite the fact that i have been stuck on some of these works for a matter of years (a couple), i must say that maybe starting from scratch isn't such a bad idea...
so i've been doing what i call scaffolding. it's like where i describe the story from the sky and gradually get closer and closer, sketching out dialogues, ideally determining a general structure for the story. i do this repeatedly. the story seems to change with each revised scaffold, with some changes being "evolutionary" and others being "revolutionary." at times, i get to this point where i feel relatively satisfied, the structure seems to hold, and it seems to capture something interesting, it has a chance of being a living tale.
BUT... getting to the actual writing of the thing has been extremely difficult. so i have to ask myself: should i continue to practice scaffolding? or am i just being a chicken? the writing itself- it can be so painful, after all. it is like looking at yourself in a very close-up mirror, and seeing all of your clogged pores and facial asymmetries and jowly cheeks, etc. it is like realizing that maybe, all together, you don't and CAN'T look particularly good, no matter how much you tweeze your eyebrows, or your nose hairs, etc. DOOMED to mediocrity, or absurdity, or ridicule.
i heard about some artist on npr, some artist who died today. can't recall his name. but the descriptions of his artistic process seemed so great. according to him, his art was less about IDEAS (because ideas limit, and you can run out of ideas); his art was more about exploration (maybe wrong word). this artist used a variety of media (including FOUND art); the media often determined the end product. i WISH my "art" could be like this; it sounds like the end product would be an unfolding, and that the process would be FUN. where's the fun in what i do? i mean, when it works out, when things seem consistent, yeah, it does feel fun. but most of the time, the attempt feels contrived, and then it is like you are building scaffolding over an empty pit...
oh well... oh well.
one of the writer's guides i tend to believe in says that it is best to rewrite works IN THEIR ENTIRETY when in early stages of reworking. and, despite the fact that i have been stuck on some of these works for a matter of years (a couple), i must say that maybe starting from scratch isn't such a bad idea...
so i've been doing what i call scaffolding. it's like where i describe the story from the sky and gradually get closer and closer, sketching out dialogues, ideally determining a general structure for the story. i do this repeatedly. the story seems to change with each revised scaffold, with some changes being "evolutionary" and others being "revolutionary." at times, i get to this point where i feel relatively satisfied, the structure seems to hold, and it seems to capture something interesting, it has a chance of being a living tale.
BUT... getting to the actual writing of the thing has been extremely difficult. so i have to ask myself: should i continue to practice scaffolding? or am i just being a chicken? the writing itself- it can be so painful, after all. it is like looking at yourself in a very close-up mirror, and seeing all of your clogged pores and facial asymmetries and jowly cheeks, etc. it is like realizing that maybe, all together, you don't and CAN'T look particularly good, no matter how much you tweeze your eyebrows, or your nose hairs, etc. DOOMED to mediocrity, or absurdity, or ridicule.
i heard about some artist on npr, some artist who died today. can't recall his name. but the descriptions of his artistic process seemed so great. according to him, his art was less about IDEAS (because ideas limit, and you can run out of ideas); his art was more about exploration (maybe wrong word). this artist used a variety of media (including FOUND art); the media often determined the end product. i WISH my "art" could be like this; it sounds like the end product would be an unfolding, and that the process would be FUN. where's the fun in what i do? i mean, when it works out, when things seem consistent, yeah, it does feel fun. but most of the time, the attempt feels contrived, and then it is like you are building scaffolding over an empty pit...
oh well... oh well.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
wish list
here are some things i would like to study/practice (if i had the time and money):
1) kiiko matsumoto's style of acupuncture, volume 2
2) anatomy trains, a fascial mapping system that "explains" the ordering of the 10 session rolfing system
3) zheng gu tui na
4) "herb zoo" mnemonic cards
5) systematization of taijiquan: wudang (is that even really a "style?" or did some wudang people "invent" a taijiquan form to maintain the legend of sanfeng?), chen (and all its different variations), yang (and all ITS different takes), wu, w'u/hao (?), sun, and, of course, the bastard style i practice, chiu
6) how to play the violin (so i can teach willow and aiden how)
... more impossible knowledge seeking in later posts.
1) kiiko matsumoto's style of acupuncture, volume 2
2) anatomy trains, a fascial mapping system that "explains" the ordering of the 10 session rolfing system
3) zheng gu tui na
4) "herb zoo" mnemonic cards
5) systematization of taijiquan: wudang (is that even really a "style?" or did some wudang people "invent" a taijiquan form to maintain the legend of sanfeng?), chen (and all its different variations), yang (and all ITS different takes), wu, w'u/hao (?), sun, and, of course, the bastard style i practice, chiu
6) how to play the violin (so i can teach willow and aiden how)
... more impossible knowledge seeking in later posts.
Monday, May 12, 2008
law of negative investment
i'm sure there's a better, more articulate way to put this. and besides, maybe "murphy" has already claimed it, in a general way. but this is what i tentatively call the "law of negative investment":
"if you really want something, then you have to convince yourself that you want its complete opposite. only when you accomplish this internal 180 degree turn will your initial wish come true.
in other words... the world grants your wishes in a manner OPPOSITE of what you expect. so if you wish/expect the opposite, then maybe the opposite of your wish will come true...
maybe."
it's an idea for a story. and it WAS the subconscious philosophy guiding my life. now, quite frankly, i don't REALLY want much of anything, not in the way i used to. REALLY wanting seems to be something young people do.
i guess that makes me officially an old stale fart.
"if you really want something, then you have to convince yourself that you want its complete opposite. only when you accomplish this internal 180 degree turn will your initial wish come true.
in other words... the world grants your wishes in a manner OPPOSITE of what you expect. so if you wish/expect the opposite, then maybe the opposite of your wish will come true...
maybe."
it's an idea for a story. and it WAS the subconscious philosophy guiding my life. now, quite frankly, i don't REALLY want much of anything, not in the way i used to. REALLY wanting seems to be something young people do.
i guess that makes me officially an old stale fart.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
sick sunday
i had a headache for the past couple days now. usually when i get one, it means there's something wrong with my alimentary canal/digestive tract, and i usually end up throwing up somewhere in the course of things.
it's so funny. as soon as i get a headache, i try to follow it musculoskeletally. facial muscles, neck muscles (sternocleidomastoid, for example) can refer pain to the head. also, jaw muscles (tmj). i know that there is something imbalanced about my jaw; it all started one day when my karate teacher did a back kick into my jaw during one of our last times sparring. ever since, the left side of my jaw clicks out of joint when i yawn too wide, and i sometimes have to forcibly push it back in. i've since translated this to mean that my left masseter and lateral pterygoids are relatively too loose, and thus the right masseter and lateral pterygoids are too tight. trouble is, to get to them, i've got to work inside my mouth (very drooly). and the pain referral i've felt in working on them has primarily been inside the mouth, towards my rear molars. no direct relation to the headache area (which is ALWAYS above the right eye, in GB 14 territory to those of you who know acupuncture points).
the musculoskeletal route, that's a more or less clear pathway for me. it's how i tend to analyze most pain problems, at least initially. for one thing, if you DO find a trigger point related to the pain, it provides pretty instant confirmation for you AND your patient ("i touch here and you go ouch"). trouble is, there are problems that have both a musculoskeletal component and an "internal imbalance" (again, for me, digestive issues). you can't solve the headache merely by treating the branch symptoms.
... but in any case, the headache turned this weekend pretty s**ty. even if i took time off this sunday to accommodate mother's day, i was a pretty crappy father and husband. all bitter and bitchy. i mean, i did my duties, but not with (quite frankly) the sincerity that i would have liked. and this afternoon/evening, i was not really giving the attention that aiden (also sick) was due. he was actually going through an apparently energetic phase, being all cute, building little cities out of blocks, talking up a storm. but i was kind of groggy and headachey and nauseous, so i would participate in a conversation with him for like maybe two sentences, and then pass out. now that i feel a bit more stable, it's aiden's turn to sleep. with any luck, he'll sleep until tomorrow, and recover fully from this damnable whatever-it-is.
i regret not doing more for my wife. in fact, i got into a little "tiff" (sounds so snobby, that word) with her. i was supposed to buy chopped olives (2 cans) so she could make this 7 layer dip. when i went to star market with a delirious willow in tow (again, headache-y and kinda out of it), there was this other dude with two kids in tow in the spaghetti aisle (i sympathized). he was having a hard time of it, and he wouldn't move away from the olives, even when i was trying to sidle in to take a closer look at the shelves. so when i saw "sliced olives," i just grabbed two cans. getting back home, i learn that lynn specifically wanted "chopped olives." i asked, "what's the diff?" lynn said: "in the time it would have taken you to ask that guy to move so you could have found the right can, you would have saved me a whole lot of effort." again, i was kinda bitchy, so i made some snide remark about how retarded i was (what a cop out, eh, when you can't win an argument, wound YOURSELF even more so the other party feels like a scumbag. jeez, what an asshole i am!!!) lynn, of course, played the mature ameliorator a little while after. (can you believe it!? it's mother's day, and pull that kind of crap!!! and she was making this special 7 layer dip for MY family's thing. gods, i hate myself. i HATE myself).
well. blame it on a headache, on nausea, whatever. but i've got some making up to do.
it's so funny. as soon as i get a headache, i try to follow it musculoskeletally. facial muscles, neck muscles (sternocleidomastoid, for example) can refer pain to the head. also, jaw muscles (tmj). i know that there is something imbalanced about my jaw; it all started one day when my karate teacher did a back kick into my jaw during one of our last times sparring. ever since, the left side of my jaw clicks out of joint when i yawn too wide, and i sometimes have to forcibly push it back in. i've since translated this to mean that my left masseter and lateral pterygoids are relatively too loose, and thus the right masseter and lateral pterygoids are too tight. trouble is, to get to them, i've got to work inside my mouth (very drooly). and the pain referral i've felt in working on them has primarily been inside the mouth, towards my rear molars. no direct relation to the headache area (which is ALWAYS above the right eye, in GB 14 territory to those of you who know acupuncture points).
the musculoskeletal route, that's a more or less clear pathway for me. it's how i tend to analyze most pain problems, at least initially. for one thing, if you DO find a trigger point related to the pain, it provides pretty instant confirmation for you AND your patient ("i touch here and you go ouch"). trouble is, there are problems that have both a musculoskeletal component and an "internal imbalance" (again, for me, digestive issues). you can't solve the headache merely by treating the branch symptoms.
... but in any case, the headache turned this weekend pretty s**ty. even if i took time off this sunday to accommodate mother's day, i was a pretty crappy father and husband. all bitter and bitchy. i mean, i did my duties, but not with (quite frankly) the sincerity that i would have liked. and this afternoon/evening, i was not really giving the attention that aiden (also sick) was due. he was actually going through an apparently energetic phase, being all cute, building little cities out of blocks, talking up a storm. but i was kind of groggy and headachey and nauseous, so i would participate in a conversation with him for like maybe two sentences, and then pass out. now that i feel a bit more stable, it's aiden's turn to sleep. with any luck, he'll sleep until tomorrow, and recover fully from this damnable whatever-it-is.
i regret not doing more for my wife. in fact, i got into a little "tiff" (sounds so snobby, that word) with her. i was supposed to buy chopped olives (2 cans) so she could make this 7 layer dip. when i went to star market with a delirious willow in tow (again, headache-y and kinda out of it), there was this other dude with two kids in tow in the spaghetti aisle (i sympathized). he was having a hard time of it, and he wouldn't move away from the olives, even when i was trying to sidle in to take a closer look at the shelves. so when i saw "sliced olives," i just grabbed two cans. getting back home, i learn that lynn specifically wanted "chopped olives." i asked, "what's the diff?" lynn said: "in the time it would have taken you to ask that guy to move so you could have found the right can, you would have saved me a whole lot of effort." again, i was kinda bitchy, so i made some snide remark about how retarded i was (what a cop out, eh, when you can't win an argument, wound YOURSELF even more so the other party feels like a scumbag. jeez, what an asshole i am!!!) lynn, of course, played the mature ameliorator a little while after. (can you believe it!? it's mother's day, and pull that kind of crap!!! and she was making this special 7 layer dip for MY family's thing. gods, i hate myself. i HATE myself).
well. blame it on a headache, on nausea, whatever. but i've got some making up to do.
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