Day 587

She slammed into the table with a yelp. It was clear she was buzzing. I tried helping her into a chair but she immediately kicked with her legs using all her might. I let go, scared she would get hurt. She wailed, squirming on the floor. After a moment she scrambled up. We weren't sure which way she'd go next, but it was down the hall with a cackle. We tried offering her food to eat but her rejections were adamant. "NO". She tore off into the other room, eventually sitting at a desk. She found a book and furiously scribbled through the pages with whatever implements she could lay her hands on. Her inscriptions left barely identifiable shapes in the books, but she seemed unbothered with specifics. The marks were of pure energy, unbounded by socially accepted norms of art. She muttered something that sounded like water but refused it when offered. With persistence I got her to accept a muffin, but before long she had thrown it aggressively to the ground. "NO. This?" She pointed at my water glass. I offered it to her and she gulped it, showing a thirst that must have been present moments earlier when she defiantly rejected it from another vessel. Sometimes it's not what, it's how. 

Re-connection, Chaos, Mastery

We've been apart for some time now. It's okay, us both doing our different things, in different places. Time continues to pass. I just heard that a bright and cheerful man younger than myself, that I knew on the periphery of my social circle, was rear-ended and killed while passengering to the airport. It's strange to know that someone I barely knew, I will no longer ever know. Time is passing, but that's what it does. I wish I got to know him better, but I didn't. Condolences to his family, for what they're worth. The machinations of life and death are strange indeed. Chaos and causation and grief. Lost uber driver pulls over and makes bad traffic decision = life ended. Elsewhere, first pedestrian killed by self-driving car. When making decisions, consequences are unclear. Time is moving forwards. We can't live our lives paralyzed by fear, or regret. So it goes.


I've been tossing the idea in my head lately that a career shakeup is needed and in that shaking a few possibilities have popped up. Why do I feel that what I'm currently doing is not enough? My pay is on the lower scale of things but certainly enough to live comfortably, and yet I often feel like a change is necessary. I struggle with the temptation to move on to something different mostly because the fact is that I generally enjoy making custom cabinetry. It's a joy to transform raw ingredients into something beautiful, similar to cooking a good meal. And yet somehow I feel miscast in my current role. I often fear for my physical safety using powerful cutting tools and handling hazardous materials. Maybe that's it. The long-term view. Sometimes the chaos of things catches you.

In exploring a possible new direction as a programmer/software developer, I've been reading the book "The Keys to Success and Long-Term Fulfillment" by George Leonard. His essential argument is that long-term, deliberate, tedious and sustained effort is what leads to mastery and fulfillment -- but this mindset is undersold by mainstream consumerist agendas that focus on selling quick fixes by exploiting anxieties. I agree that maintaining attention to diet and exercise, doing regular yoga, meditation and group support (in whatever form that takes) are the keys to healthy living. Yet we are often tempted into the easier solutions of fast-food, sedentary lifestyles, ignoring stretching, and distracting ourselves with solitary digital entertainment. We are tempted to look for quick fixes with pills, surgeries, diet fads, and social media attention as a way of cheating out of doing the simple but hard work of daily attention to basic needs. We are increasingly distracted and averse to simply focusing on doing basic things well. If I can find the zen in coding as I do in handling a hockey puck, perhaps it will be a long and fruitful journey.

Until next time in the cyber swamp,

The 35/115

Conurbation gravity pull
Tugging at the motions
Treading on asphalt
Rubber water wheels spinning
Around the corner new beginning
Take it from an old song's trimming
Location stopped
But
Nearness is a feeling

Visionary Consequences

Internal weather report forecast
Transient patterns repeating
Witholding escape controls
Curving towards the sun
Brightness searing wakefulness
Etched into greatness
A moment of clarity
Seeing through the fog

In the Absence of Colour

Cold, cantankerous and late, he arrived rapping at the window in the dead of night. We all talked about his absence, and now that he's arrived we'll surely talk about his presence -- although to call him popular would be contentious. With each step he challenges us to remember the true power this world, and how precious our dear warmth is. He arrives suddenly even when delayed, and is disposed to disappear without warning. Clinging to the ground waiting to ensnare you in patches, or hanging off of the rooftops in icy daggers, he is not afraid of you and will come again long after you were sure you'd overcome him. Forcing your breath short he will draw away your sensations and do his best to wrap you up in his frosty gusts. It has been awhile since we met, good evening Mr. Winter.

Goodnight Moon

To be home with the goat dog and a nice bed, it's a really nice feeling. The reality of lacking and seeking paid work hasn't started to bother me. Seeing old friends and being pitched offers to join forces in creative endeavours is both flattering and exciting. I'm eagerly anticipating a call from the film lab telling me to pick up my 34 rolls of developed film. I'm surprisingly eager to also take weeks to scan it all.

It was the best summer of my life, and the momentum is still here. What I lacked in writing I made up for by working on my photography. I'm starting to gain the confidence to shoot the candid street portraits that I aspire to do well. There's something about capturing people in their natural stances that appeals so much to me. In a day and age of relentless image productions, it's fresh to simply document things as they are. There's something that feels more legitimate about working with the conditions at hand --although I do respect studio work. Being a sneaky ninja photographer is more me.

I'd like to share the blog of my good friend Marcelo, a fantastic musician from Sao Paulo who compiled an excellent list of his favourite Brazilian albums of all time. Move your furniture out of the way, because you're going to want to move around to the brilliant and fun rhythms.

http://marceloporai.blogspot.rs/

On Cement Blocks

Dear robots, Russian spies, CSIS, Family, Friends, Lovers,

Fair universe, how I thank you. It was another day where the city took a few days to grow on me. Big thanks to my older brother for being so well loved that a distant family would take me into their home and give me such unwarranted treatment.

Valencia, you dirty, corrupt, artistic, utterly Spanish and adorable city. I navigated your streets in the rain and made it just in time to a haven for film photographers. Despite arriving minutes before closing, your best showered me with helpful tips and filled my bag with fresh film stock. You even rounded the bill down and gave me a nice cloth bag. With a quick and happy goodbye you pointed me to a modern art museum that wasn´t full of laziness, but rather sharp anti-war sentiment and intelligent decontructions of propaganda. I left and took a picture of a cop who then threatened me if he ever saw himself on the internet. Jackass, I know you take selfies and put them there yourself.

After playing the ignorant gidi card I left and chuckled at the absurdity of a law and order figure being so upset for being lawfully captured on film. Unless you were embarassed for say, hassling someone with no cause, why be afraid of having your photo taken in public? He should have less fear, his portrait will probably look as ugly as his person and not make the cut.

The desicion has been made that this second taste of Europe needs to be savoured for longer. Two months has been doubled to four months. Photos need to be taken. Things need to be written. Music needs to be played. Apologies to the family (and especially the dog), but things are rolling in strength here that make the stasis of the past few years at home seem wasted. They were not, of course, but the feeling is there. Trust in your instinct is something I vowed some time ago, and so here I will wander, collect, absorb, dissect and enjoy.

Roll, walk, push, sit and watch as the landscape shifts before you. The smells change, the language transitions from one romantic to the next and before long, time will bring you back to your starting point with fresh memories and ideas to challenge that cursed, beautiful, comfortable stasis. Why search for more when you start with everything an ape needs?

More rambles. Bukowski the articulate jerk; whose words peel behind your eyes as fast as your hunger allows. What indulgence and self-loathing can do for expression is frightening. Why are so many idols such volatile people on an individual level? Kurt Cobain who blew himself up, Elliot Smith and his sword to gut, Nick Drake and his pills. How many other of my favourite creators push their bodies to their limits and beyond? How can I possibly reach my goals if I refuse to indulge in such depravity? The vegetable lovers usually seem too smug. And the hipsters! So self-conscious. Who wants to be someone who can´t enjoy anything for fear of being seen to enjoy? The punks who hate conformity yet look as similar to each other as houses in the suburbs. The irony is not lost on all. Metalheads and their obsession with death and violence share more in common with their fathers than they´ll probably ever know. Who can you be that doesn´t just degrade your privilege?



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Feeble

Nobody cries for the pigeon
Old and feeble
Unable to fly
The small dog slowly chases
Without emotion
Or haste
And puts it to rest
Nobody cries for the pigeon
Old and feeble
Unable to fly
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Things Grow

Father of daughter
Of brother´s love
Across oceans web spinning
Twisting more intricately
Until today under the bright sun
We roll through the country
Where love first sprouted
On cement blocks

Time goes back
To the beginning
Of my brother´s love
A faint uncertain future
Grown on blocks
At the edge of Sisante
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