So the Rains Can Wash it Away

The sky, for the first time in awhile, looks blue. A decent rain last night, finally washed out the much, which had been hanging below the pillow case of marine layer.

So blue skies, and dancing little clouds make me feel right. This weekend I played a whole bunch of ultimate on Saturday, a little bit of Softball on Sunday.

OH! I got my truck back from Toyota. New clutch, new starter, oil/filter change, minor electrical work, steam cleaned engine, detailed in and out, and peace of mind with a Toyota guarantee for all work and parts---out the door for $750 US. AMAZING!!! 100% the best thing I have done in sometime. I drove home in complete glee. I bumped Al Green and wiggled and screamed. The feel of the truck, is like a brand new piece of goodness. They gave me my old clutch parts. The disc, which should be nice and rough, as it is scored with grooves, was as smooth at the vinyl desk I am sitting at. It was the original clutch, and it gave a solid run for 178,000mi. Peter Kline told me last year that the clutch was going, and well now it is gone, and the new one feels great!

I feel really good about my decision to move to Austin. Sure I am not going to be as good at Spanish as I would after two years down here, but I am better and improving, and I am ready to get back to the vibrancy of a smaller city with better urban planning. Mexico City has been totally awesome, and I will definitely be back next year, but for now, the allure of bike riding, camping, and sustainable steps to creating a better life and household are calling me back to the States. I love a liberal city in the heart of Southern hospitality. I also like the fact, that I am leaving here on a high note, both professionally and socially. I feel great about the friends that I have made, I feel solid about the caliber of work that I have put in as a teacher, and I feel really good leaving things that way. I really could sense that another year would pose the possibility of stagnation and a feeling of losing my freedom. I can't say enough about meditating on the intuition which lies inside of all of us.

I have recently become obsessed with yet another avenue of thought--another micro culture. This one centers around lightweight camping and the beauty of hammocking. I have stumbled across a man by the name of Sean "Shug" Emery--I do believe I would like to be this stoked on life when I am his age. An avid unicyclist, acrobat, juggler, performer, musician, camper, gearhead, Do-it-yourselfer, and all around goofball, he has made around 70 vids on youtube, and they are both informative and compelling. I respect anyone who talks to themselves in different voices, and then publishes the findings to the masses. He also, strikes an uncanning resemblance to my recently departed Godfather, Dave Markel--weird, because they both hail from Minesota. In any event, checkout his channel, and the entertaining goodness, perhaps you too will be inspired (I am thinking about investing in the Warbonnet Blackbird for my upcoming summer travels, as featured in one of "Shug's" videos.):

Sean "Shug" Emery

I am also looking into building my own camping stove from old coke cans. Tons of information online, and tons of opportunities to mess and tweak designs. There are also wood burning stoves, which I find intriguing for the potential of having a nice simmering controlled fire while camping, and not having to invest in a non-renewable resource such as petrol. Check out the great designs at Minibull Designs, and look at youtube for your DYI instructions:

Minibull Designs

AUSTIN: camping, riding, dogging, frisbeeing, musicing, living, and loving.

Ahoy, 10 weeks of school left.

Hello Vacation

My feet are filthy: The kind of grime one picks up walking flip-flopped through an urban sprawl; the kind of crushed cereal crusty one gets when walking over white washed hardwood--the same wood where dirty dogs make beds for afternoons of nothingness--this is the kind of dirt in which my sweaty feet are swimming in, and I think I am okay with it.

What of the last 15 days or so--well much has happened, and I have photos, but perhaps they shall surface another day--I am feeling verbal right now.

Well school ended for break, and it all felt quite nice. Went to get my car from Toyota. They steam cleaned my engine and cleaned it in and out--but guess what: That new battery I had put in, upon the local mechanics recommendation, that my starting problems were not my starter but in fact my battery--it was my starter. So although my car looked nice, it had to stay at the dealership. Ironically my part was in Los Angeles--home. I should get my faithful steed back sometime this week. All and all, I am thinking that everything that needs to be done, is going to be done now--because the labor costs here are fucking nothing compared to the States, and all the work from the dealership comes with that same shiny stamp of Toyota certification. All and all, I will have a completely new clutch (all parts Toyota certified), new starter, oil/filter change, front end re-greased, and a complimentary detailing in and out of my luscious beast. I am thinking it will all come in under $1000. For anyone who has gone the way of dealership repair for their make/model, they know that this is unheard of. The dealership is pricey--but not so bad here. Yes, more than the street mechanic on the corner, but with a shit ton more security. (Sorry for the fowl language, but it seems necessary.)

After not picking up my car, we went to Costco--we would be Pablo and I. We bought many things. Then we had a BBQ on Julia's roof. I brought my dogs and guitars. I wound up being the cultural representative for American BBQ. I made burgers with Julia. We put onion, oregano, and garlic inside, and we topped 'em off with Vermont extra sharp cheddar cheese. I fired up the coals, and ran the Q like a goddamn southern baptist revival--I was summoning all that I knew about us Gringos and how we roast animals. I had good training from my father and his world famous Dad Burgers and Chee-ken. We played some music, drank some beer, and all and all had a lovely time.

On Monday, Pablo let me borrow his car and I drove 45 minutes out to Toluca. I had never been there, and I had never driven that far at night--but with Constance, my GPS sweetheart, in hand, I made it fine. I circled the airport once, parked it, and was summoned by a lovely airport attendant, who knew my name. He called out, "E-lee-oat?" I replied yes. I was the only white hippy there, and well my friend Shaun, being of similar stature and and creed, had talked to this here attendant, and well I guess he put it together that I was here for him. All and all it went very smooth. We made it back without a hitch, and went for Tacos--the beginning of a three day taco rampage.

Basically, Shaun and I developed a routine: Mornings were about coffee and the dog park; Afternoons, were about site seeing and conversation; Evenings, were about beer and tacos. All and all, a great system in my book. We saw Chapultepec park, and Teotihuacan. We hit the centro, the Torre Latino Americana, Belles Artes, and Lucha Libre. It was a well rounded trip. It was a vacation, instead of a guided tour, and it was great. The last night found us drinking heartily at a small Mescaleria in Roma Norte. Aside from a fine selection of Mescal, they had a sweet spread of brew. They had various styles, brands, and tastes. I purchased a few stouts, a few red ales, and a Duff. Yes that is right, Simpsons' fans, Homer's beloved Duff is made in Mexico, and it's pretty damn good. I guess, Matt Groening and FOX never slapped a copyright on that little fictional trademark.

Anywho, Shaun left yesterday. I had a solid cruda going. So when I got back I went for some breakfast with Ana and Pablo, then I came home and slept for the better part of 3 or so hours.

Today, I swept and washed. Tomorrow I will mop and spray. All and all, this vacation has been extremely relaxing, and I have a good vibe of all things before me.

Knock Knock--It's me!

Hey you. It has been far too long. Ya see, I moved into this new house, and then I sort of started living a new life: speaking a lot more Spanish in the house; waking up earlier and going to the park; working out; not driving my truck during the week; hanging out with my dogs at cafes, far more frequently; walking to dinner, ya know--stuff. In any event, I had almost plumb forgot about updating the happenings, so here is the skinny:

1. Moved into my new apartment with Ms. Marta Lia. An Italian national, currently residing in DF by way of Chiapas and the Yukatan, and formerly Brasil. Marta is a hippy, more or less. Marta works in the psychology wing at the social health care center. Our dogs, my two and her one, get along great. She cooks and I clean, and on Wednesdays, Emma comes and gives the whole place a rub down for $300 pesos.

2. Went to the woods on Sunday. Drove in 40 minutes of stop-n-go traffic, and my clutch, which is original and old, got too hot, and well it started to slip. I had to park it on a hill and leave it. The forest was amazing though, and we went exploring through valleys and trails, and trees and leaves. The dogs had a blast, and the Chileans en tow

were great. We came back to my truck, I hopped in, sans dogs, and 4 other people, and I fired The Whip up. I eased the clutch in, and it caught, and we made a hasty exit home--all down hill. I have been nervous to take my car to any of the local mechanics--although I admire Mexican ingenuity and craftsmanship, I am also aware of the often trial by fire, and haphazard nature of their work. That fact, coupled with my car not being a common car here, makes me nervous. Turns out, the Toyota dealership can order my part and do the work, all under the umbrella, of "Toyota Certified". I am waiting for a quote, but anticipate that it will be cheaper than work in the States, because the labor costs are far lower here. More expensive than going to the mechanic on the corner, but cheaper than the arm and a leg lifestyle of the States. I hope to get it in this weekend, and have it back by next week--before Shaun's arrival, which is going to be a little bit of a road trip.

3. Shaun's coming in a week. I am really excited to see a good friend, and to reconnect with a piece of my life from Santa Cruz. During my time in Santa Cruz, Shaun outfitted me with several articles of kick ass clothing: NB tennis shoes, North Face Fleece, several cool shirts, and a kick ass patagonia weatherproof parka. Well last night, on my way to a concert, I was engaged in a lengthy conversation with the taxista, and I hopped out and forgot my jacket. GODDAMNIT! I loved that thing. So it goes. Right now I am going through a phase of losing possessions: I misplaced my favorite beanie from Norway, I have packed my K belt in some unknown location, and now my jacket--super bummed, but learning not to obsess over material objects.

4. Curt's coming in April. My first trip into Latin America was with Curt and company back in 2005. Curt is always good for a hearty laugh, some sociological analysis, and an overall chill time.

5. Last night I went to a concert with Mauricio's cousin Fernando, a.k.a Feña. I met up with him and three other Chileños. I have really been getting into more situations of speaking just Spanish, and it is nerve wracking, exciting, and rewarding. We went and saw the Charles Gayle Trio. An amazing show. I found that with free jazz, I have to submit to the tangents of my mind. I spent most of the time, reflecting on my own life and the architecture of Teatro Ciudad--a beautifully crafted concert hall, which lead me to the question: Who the hell designs the ceilings of concert halls? They look like primitive calls to the universe. They are geometric and patterned and filled with symmetrical wonderment. But back to the music: I found that free jazz is music without a

message; it is a conversation. It is a musical conversation between individuals, and the audience member is not told what to think or what to believe--there is no message slapping you in the face, and hence, as a listener I realized that I needed to free myself to allow my brain to wonder, and that, for me, was the true beauty of the show. Two encores and a series of short speeches of praise from the group, made it a great night. It was awesome to hear individuals chuckle when unexpected changes in the improv occurred. Free jazz is the technique of a skilled adult player coupled with the whimsical lust of life, which we attribute to the unpretentiousness of childhood. (I do not know why this has formatted itself into a 1.5 spacing...free jazz?)

6. I might go sleep in a tree hammock Saturday night--but my hermit tendencies, and the desire to get my truck fixed are putting thoughts of staying in DF into my mind. I will have to weigh

the options come tomorrow.

7. My students just did these personal Hero's Journey projects, where they applied Joseph Campbell's monomyth archetype to their own lives, and created a creative representation. Some students wrote stories, others made powerpoints and films, some made comics, and others went to another realm--all and all I am tickled by their creativity and intellect.

8. My dirty laundry is in a closet, and it stinks--BAD!

9. I transfered $81,000 pesos ($6500) into my U.S. bank account. I was hoping to save $8,000 for the year, and I am damn close. I think with 4 months of work left, I will achieve my goal, if not pass it. It felt so good to send that money home!!! The peso is currently the strongest it has been since I got here: 12.5 pesos to 1 dollar. It is a great time!

10. I am embarking on poetry in the classroom. If this is going to be my swan song for English education, at least for a few years, well then I am going to get inspirational with these little mothers. They seem jazzed on the subject. I have outlined slam a little bit, we have watched some videos, and next class we are going to have a haiku off. Then I believe we are going to stage a few competitions, and I might have some 5th graders, or at least another class from the high school, come judge the students.

10.1 I realize that I feel such conviction at points, for different

possibilities in my ambiguous future. At certain moments I feel them so strongly, and last night, during Charles Gayle's freakery, I realized, just like the musings on his sax, what is true, or what is right, will change

in a moment's notice, and I must stay present to be there for the change--and if I am present, I will know just when and where to go to the next key.

10.2 Shimmy has been giving me reasons to draw of late--album covers and liner notes, from doodles to portraits, inspiration abounds.

Thanks.

The Keyboard is Grimy with Overuse

So, it is Monday again. I feel good about it. I have incredible gas, and you do not need to know that, nor if I were you, would I want to know that, but sometimes facts are presented without much cause for being reasonable or needed--see cable news, if you need further examples

Well, Saturday was a day of Ultimate Frisbee. It was an especially long run of games, three hours to be exact. I had some good plays, and some good throws, but I biffed a pivotal point at the end, which bummed me out. We played barefoot, in the watery grass--it was a blast. But, two days later, my body is still hurting, and I have realized that my workout ethic is going to change--tomorrow in fact. Tomorrow, during my free period I am going to hit the gym--I am making a change. On Friday, when I move into my new crib...I do not know what I was going to say here. I started this post yesterday, and then the bell rang. Anywho, I anticipate Friday will be an exciting day of change.

I bought a huge cardboard box off the street for 10 pesos--it was a good buy.

I need to practice my guitar songs for the lesson tomorrow. I am not putting in enough time to learn the new songs. I must be forced to do so--I shall force myself...after this blog.

I used google reader for the first time today, and I checked in on the musings of my various friends. I also, spent an evening reading and commenting on Reddit.com. I was not aware of the culture emerging within "social media". There are jobs, nerds, drama, racists, conversations, arguments, love, and weird shit--it is truly evolving at an incredible speed. I can't quite wrap my mind around the whole thing.

I cooked pasta last night--my neighbor lent me some gas. My house is still pretty damn clean.

I need to pack today, and I also need go to Costco.

I am not grading papers, but I do carry them home with me in my backpack. I am failing on grading.

I am listening to a series of good live performances put out by the French Geniuses at La Blogotheque. They basically take artists and push their music into different settings: street corners, bars, elevators, houses, etc. I am currently enjoying the series of Bon Iver concerts. Here is a little bit of the Lump Sum for you.

(The pictures spread through out are glimpses of my classes, and a taste of a clean apartment at night.)

A Week's Worth of Change and Thought

Well, it has been a damn good week. One thing to be stated outright, is that grading--the monotonous motion of correcting papers--has definitely been horribly avoided. I have to make that change, but not tonight.

Let's see...well at some point this week I found myself in the park at night. I first ran into Muriel and talked for a bit. Then I ran into Marta, more on her later. Then I ran into Julia. In between Marta and Julia, I roamed the park in the fading light. I tried out the happy little night setting on my camera. I got some good shots. That white blur is Chops frolicking about.

I played more music with Ray. Ray is a badass on the guitar, and I am learning a lot. Once a week, for the next four months will do nothing but to help the process.

On Friday night, I met Siri Berman, Stefan, and Izzo at the Torre Latino Americana--formerly the tallest building in the Americas. I hopped a ride up to the 41st floor, and enjoyed cheap beers ($2.00) and a great view. Izzo is a teacher from NYC, and she was apart of the Teach For America Program. She had war stories about her time in the public sector. Teaching is a hell of a job.

Then we headed out to Arena Mexico for an ultimate bout of Lucha Libre (I would have pics, but they didn't allow cameras inside). INCREDIBLE! Now the crowd wasn't huge, but it was big enough--I mean the big show is in the States, which consequently I now have a desire to witness in person. In any event, the acrobatics and the machismo overflowed. The audience engages in a screaming match of epic proportions. One group, wearing matching purples shirts, and chanting in unison, were utilizing three truck air-horns, tubed up to bike pumps. Hilariously loud. One interesting twist, which I do believe you would not see in the States, is the homosexual wrestler. Misterio, is the designated queer luchador. When an oponant throws him into a head lock, he mimicks a humping motion, and the homophobic opponant backs off, as Misterio smirks and giggles at the audience. He throws in little dance moves, and the crowd loves it--THEY CHEER FOR HIM! From a social standpoint, it was a great acknowledgement of "the other" and an embracing of it within the popular fabric. Less profound but equally as intriguing, was Strong Man. He was the only gringo in the event, and he was so large and frighteningly muscular, that it was absolutely otherworldly. The back of his neck looked like a pack of hotdogs, his back muscles had their own cleavage, his skin was a rusty pipe orangish-brown, and as far as I could tell, he had the tell tale acne and hair loss, associated with steroid use. Disgusting, but lovely; I went home and watched The Wrestler, and I read Mickey Rourke's Wiki file.

Saturday, I met Marta in the park. Marta is looking for a new place to live. She had plans to move to Coyoacan, but they fell through. I had hoped to snag her apartment in Condesa, but that went out the window. What did happen was the idea to combine efforts and look for a place. I had some numbers from my prior searching, and she made some phone calls. We looked at an apartment literally in between my two favorite places: the dog park and Don Keso--which is a great little cafe/pub, which I will take you too if you come visit. In any event, Marta told them we had two dogs, that they were small, and well behaved: aside from the well behaved part, well that may even be wrong, but the rest is defintiely a lie. The place was sweet though. It was on the top floor, and it had great light. It is tiny, but splitting the place would be about $4000 pesos (or $330) a month. For now though, since I have not paid rent for the month of Feb at my current place, and since I know I ain't getting that deposit back, I am going to exit my crib on the 1st. For now, since nothing is sured up, I am going to move into Marta's current place, while we search. Marta is good peoples, as far as I can tell. I do not know her very well, but as Jamie would say, which originates from the mouth of Shauna: "More "yes's" than "no's"." So I say YES! I think it shall be an adventure, fortunately, her dog and my dogs get along well. Her little skidrow terrier is named Samba. She found him under some stairs in Chiapas when he was a wee one. She named him Samba, because, well I assume, it is because she lived in Brasil, and has an affinity for the dance style. Marta is Italian, and she lived in Brasil for two years, and has been here in Mexico for two years. She speaks Spanish, but apparently with a thick Italian accent. She doesn't speak much English, so we have had quite a few moments lost in translation. I am excited to live with her because:

• Far more opportunities to organically practice my Spanish
• Cheaper Rent
• She can walk the dogs in the Morning
• Able to move to Condesa
• New Friends
• New Ideas
• I hopefully will be accountable for my mess

If nothing else, it is a continued step towards adventure.

Also, if you are a gmail person, perhaps you have noticed Buzz. Well, half-heartedly I have been checking it, and I was absolutely intrigued by a post from my friend Atom. He posted a link to A Low Impact Woodland Home. It has made me consider the future, and how this could be my generations way to actually own a home of our own--BUILD IT! There are many sites that are championing the process of learning how to build eco friendly housing. Cob Cottage Housing and House of Straw are two great examples. My dream, and I even did a little searching on the net, is to by a piece of property in LA (Topanga or North Valley--Chatsworth, Calabasas) and build one of these houses myself with the help of friends. Because the US is finally "Going Green", the posibility of utilizing natural materials, and meeting code, is becoming far more possible.

Well, enjoy life.

The Freedom of Honesty

So today there are no classes. Today is a day entitled: Parent/Teacher Conferences. I have met with several parents. Most of them are happy sorts, and their kids are good people as well. One father, toting a book entitled "The Tea Drinker's Guide" was a little peculiar. He told me about how he only allows Spanish spoken in his home, which seems reasonable, as an attempt to preserve the bilingual fluency. However, when he delved into the historical origins of the word "Blackberry" and "Amen", he sort of lost me in a dust of spookiness. Blackberry, according to this wise sage, was chosen by the marketers at RIM for its reference to the ball and chain, which apparently is what the imprisoned slaves dubbed the ball. He decreed that they were on a mission to create a shackle for the technologically whorish civilian, and they wanted the name to be the subtle battle cry of this device. Now, I googled this for a solid 15 minutes, and not a damn morsel of information corraborates this wonderous tale. What I did find, was that an executive at the marketing firm, Lexicon Branding, thought the keys looked like seeds and they began tossing around fruits (there is a joke there), and they came up with Blackberry.

The Truth of Blackberry (According to the internet and a little Google magic)

Then he went on about some business with the Egyptians and "Amen", and how the Romans co-opted the phrase. Needless to say, the guy was a little bit of an odd one, but that is all done with now.

Today, amidst meeting with parents, life has been good. Below you shall find proof of a step towards the future. The theme for Burning Man 2010 is "Metropolis"--coming from DF, I think I will be highly prepared and qualified to engage with the moments that shall unfold.

Today was a day of just pure and simple honesty, and I 100% feel empowered by that freedom.

The Kooks: Behind Closed Doors provided a soundtrack for all the emails and thoughts. Ahoy!


Burning Man Tickets Confirmation:

---

ELLIOTT KUHN
8187636832
8187636832

Total Charge = $297.75 USD
VISA | XXXX-XXXX-XXX3-9646

Questions and comments, visit:
http://tickets2.burningman.com/contact

---

Purchasing Information:

Event Pass - Aug 30, 2010 - Sep 6, 2010
Burning Man 2010
@ Metropolis - Black Rock City, Gerlach, NV 89412 Get directions

(1 ticket x $280.00 USD) - Burning Man 2010

Welcome to Mexico

Yesterday, I met up with Muriel, a Spaniard I met on my Veracruz trip with the school, and whom I re-met in the dog park. She invited me to go hiking with her friend and her friend's daughter. We met yesterday at around 10, and we headed out.

We made our way to Los Desiertos de Leones. I have been there once before, but I went to the wrong area. Muriel knew of a hiking trail which was off the beaten path, and which lead to a little refugio where an old lady and her blind husband made food. Her wood log shanty held great smells, and her old teracatta pots were scorched with age. I had two tacos with chorizo and ongos. They were quite delactable. At some points through the woods, the wind kicked up to such a fervor, that all you could hear was the mounting rush through the leaves. Flow rolled in several mounds of horse shit, and Chops ate some. I wanted to be mad, but what for? "So you want to roll and shit and frolic? You are in a city and this is nature, and well, ok then." I gave Flow a bath upon coming home.

I got home around 4, and walked to order a pizza. I had built up this event as a scary one. I often times over analyze my cultural role as a foriegner, and well I assume, that in the non-touristy parts, they have an aversion to my bad Spanish and weird clothing. Beto's pizza, was a friendly place, and their cocinita (little piggy) pizza is amazing. I ordered a family size, which would be about a medium or large in the States. I started it last night, and finished today.

Today, I have done little, and it has felt great. I finished watching "Fargo", and I just finished watching "Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels". I talked to my mom on Skype. I took Flow to the farmer's market, and I got a whole bunch of goodness for under $10: a bundle of bananas, a head of brocoli, 4 mangos, 4 avacados, 1/2 kilo of chopped mixed veggies, 4 carrots, and a bottle of fresh squeezed mandarin juice. TASTY!

Now, after the pics upload, I am going to head to the park. Then maybe a coffee, a little supermarket action, and then home again. And then, and then, and then--well, school tomorrow.

Tuesday Inspirational

There is just absolutely nothing wrong with this right here:
Al Green - People Get Ready

Yes!

Everyone is phenomenal--you can watch the jerry curl juice drip of the elated drummers forehead; Al is 100% immersed in confident showmanship; the back up singers are smoothing it all together; the bassist is sliding in the licks at opportune moments; and the crowd is right there with it. The breakdown at the end is absolutely mesmerizing.

It Was a Sunday

When I shimmy through the memories of my life, there are some damn good ones (and this is just here now):

• Five years old, I use to play squirels with a fellow class mate at my Mom's preschool, Born Learners. We would hatch escape plans. His arms had more hair on them, probably still do, which allowed for a greater holding of sand, and hence more squirelness. I was always a bit remisced by the fact, that if caught, he definitely had the better disguise. Also, on Thursdays, I went to school with an attractive young teacher at my preschool. Her name was Nikki, and one time we listened to Paula Abdul's song, "Opposites Attract", and at 5, I was pretty sure that song was about her and I.
• 10 years old, I went to the La Brea Tar Pits; I ran to the entrance, tripped on a rock, skinned my knee through my pants, and spent the whole day bloody and excited--I still have a saber tooth from that trip.
• The middle years, my mom enrolled me in musicals and plays. It was awesome--despite having a flat voice. My mom let me dress up in all of her green clothing, because I was playing the wizard in the wizard of OZ--or maybe I was the mayor, or maybe it was a different play--either way, I was decked out in green.
  
• 14 years old, I was fucking phenomenal at flag football--catching passes was like this locked in moment of perfection.
• Most of my childhood, I would play catch with my dad in the park--I mean, like straight up Leave it to Beaver, 50's style nostalgia--catch in the park. One year, I lead the league in home runs. I wasn't that good, just fast for my age.
  
• 16 years old, I used to park on Buffalo Ave, across from school. Only teachers were allowed to park there. Gloria and I would meet in the mornings and talk there. She got in trouble, and I did not. Her car was bigger. I had my Dad's black Mazda MX-6--in its later years, the driver's side door did not open, it had a busted rear side window, and a slipping transmission--it died two days before I went to College.
• 18 years old, I moved into a dorm room and made a great friend. 7 years later, I officiated his wedding to a lovely lady named Claire.
• 22 years old, I worked at NBC with my father. I bought a 1968 bus and I had long hair--both my parents loved it!
• 23 years old, I became a teacher. My mom has taught her whole life. Teaching is a calling and a skill, and teachers, the real one's, are great people. I met some real one's in my teaching program: Annie, George, Tom, and David Hicks--genuine people, with genuine skill and heart.
• 26 years old, I drove to Mexico in a truck that I love. I went with a friend, and we covered roads and valley's and ideas. Two dogs sniffed the wind, and I realized, that, "Yes, life is about choice."

And now it is Sunday. I have started cleaning my house. I haven't done it in so long. I had told myself, that I was moving, and that I would wait until I moved out, but that pursuit has slipped away from the immediate and become more of an eventual step.

Saturday, was a day spent in smokey guitar playing, napping, eating, and napping. It was a day of absolutely nothing--though I did go for a walk and buy some produce. I had not eaten any fruit for a week--I ate 7 apple bananas and two oranges--I also ate an avocado if that works for you. It was magical. I slept hard.

I awoke at 8 and began" I started with a little stove cleaning, and then dropped the close into a soapy bucket (they are still there, and will be attacked post blog), I swept up a sweater's worth of fur, dust, trash, and stuffing--my dogs have effectively disemboweled a giant bean bag. I have lit some incense, and I have talked to my dad. I think my mom is at church. I am probably going to call Gloria and sing a song on her answering machine. Shaun comes at the end of March. I go to Santa Cruz by way of LA, in May--Andy is picking me up at SJC. I talked to Shimmy yesterday; Ah wait, that was yesterday...

I had a shimmy through my memories of Santa Cruz, and I felt tangible longing for what was. I listened to an evening of poetry which Shimmy organized. He read poetry, and I mutilated the microphone with musings and short writings. In any event, I heard laughs, and I knew who they were: I heard Jen Cohen's gasp for air; Judith's belly laugh; Annie's laugh and crack; Molly's car exhaust sputtering; Lindsay's smoker cackle; Dustin's knee stomping; Devin's repetition of absurd lines; and Shimmy's encouragement. It was a group of people and time which pushed me towards a direction, to which now, in DF, I feel like I am finding my way back to. Part of me thinks, if I say it enough, it will be the collective agreement amongst the people that I meet, that indeed ART is what I must do. So all these musings, and reminders, and conversations are the mortar of the blocks of art I am building as my home--that is a horrible analogy, but I sort of know what I mean.

Regardless, last night was nostalgic, and I laughed at myself and my memories. Note: Be where you are NOW, and share who you are NOW!

Note: Mexicans like to tinker with their cars in absurd ways: neon lights, goofy horns, rims, body kits, spoilers, lifts, lowers, and so on. They put a lot of shit on their cars, which truly serve no purpose. Here is an example: On the back of a water truck, I spotted these: Skulls with swastikas on their foreheads--these were his brake lights and rear turn signals. Now, I strongly doubt that the brownskinned Naco driving the car, has Nazi inclinations--but somewhere, at some point, he decided that his truck needed these. Here here Mexico--here here.

30 to 40: See You There

From the 30's to 40's I explode with lasting creativity. 30 is the new 20. I'm in my 20's. I'm still studying. This is about studying.

Today was a rainy one. I had plans, and with each drop they faded into oblivion. Today consisted of cereal, coffee, TED Talks, and guitar practice. It was a good one, though as the light is fading away, I am wondering where it went--the day that is. So it goes. Its a Mexican holiday. It was the best Monday in quite sometime.

My Internet is extremely slow, and I find myself welling over with anger at its lack of speed. What a hasty little yuppie I have become.

Is Mac really better than a PC, or is just the marketing--I wonder? Somehow, I am pretty sure I am just a pawn like the rest. I am slowly accepting the fact, that the individualistic nature of American society, is simply marketing. In truth, they want us to be sweet little lambs, and for the most part, I do believe we are--bah bah black sheep.

If you are not privy to Bon Iver and his album For Emma, please privy yourself. With the rainy weather, he has crept back into my rotation.

Addendum to my first statement: Aside from exploding with creativity, the 30's and 40's see me in perfect physical shape and balance--hazzah!

Well, there is not "a black crow sitting across from me" ("re: Stacks"--have you listened to his album yet?), but there is a stack of papers--three weeks worth to be exact, and that is a "crispy realization" (go! go now and listen!).

Blessings