The Rock House

This house, made of stones found in this woods, was built by my mother and her twin sister at the age of 17. At 17 I was not building two story homes with running water from a well they dug themselves; that's a fact. And people make a big deal that a few 16 year old Redding kids built a tree house with a rope latter. Well my momma built a livable home, with slate book shelves, a latter to the second floor, a stone fire place, a kitchen, attic, and upstairs bedroom. My parents briefly lived here. Aunt Grace (my mom's twin) tide two swings in the gorges on each side of this house. One went over water, and when I was younger I would image this land as the escape in the book, "Bridge to Terabithia." This rock house, built by two 90 something pound post adolescent girls, is a testament to the life blood and creative energy in my mother, and the always amazing (aunt) Grace. Both woman had enormous hearts, and never fit in with society.

In the late 80's my Aunt Grace opened the home for troubled teens and they trashed it. The sign said, "All Are Welcome" and it was meant as a retreat for the local, neglected kids. All her good intentions turned bad with no thanks ever given. But she never changed her giving spirit. I praise the energy in her life, and I am happy to know and be a part of such neat-o people as my family. My family and observing them have made me want to write stories down. They made me a recorder of their lives, as well as the few others like them.

Thanks for All the Fried Fish

Here we were this past weekend; watching Daryl graduate with a degree in Art. I burned out there! Busy weekend, but I had some adventures and had those happy chemicals going strong.

Here Comes the Sun

This little Dr. Spock is the newest addition to my
family.  His name is Lucian- Latin for 'light'-
because he is the light in my  life.  Don't let this
picture fool you.  Lucian is an extremely hyperactive,
armature boxer.  His favorite move is the 'battle
roll' in which he stands on his hind legs, jumps at
you, does a flip and lands on his back, only to roll
over and do the gymnastics again.  The kitten is nuts.


One word about someone I love that left the world
recently.  I spent almost 23 years loving a girl that
stuck by me through everything.  Katlor D.  Her
beating heart was like a bank where I stored all the
love I had for everything.  She was who I invested my
love into, and in return she gave me 23 years of a joy
that is indescribable.  She was my Love Generator.
She was the one I thanked God I had every night.  No
one can replace her.  I lost my girl.

About 3 years ago I lost my boy Muffin (a.k.a "Sun").
He died of a broken heart at the age of seven a week
after I left him with my family in Maryland.  We will
never see the likes of these vessels of light again.
God thank you for those 23 years.  And God damn you
that I did not have more time.

Sure Fire Answer for World Peace

Rent MSK3000's "The Prince of Space". The whole world needs to watch this movie. This epic superhero movie (well, the Japanese version of what constitutes a superhero) will open all hearts and minds, destroy our current war torn world, and restore peace to man kind. Wrong Morissey! Love Peace and Harmony are very nice in this world! This movie's release date should be a world wide holiday.

* My favorite line that the Prince of Space delivers is when he is first introduced: "You have come here to rule the universe. You consort with "Crank-hore" (I think that's what he is saying) and I am here to stop you!"

Prince of Space

Life is good. This was taken today off of 101 North- Fern Canon. The scent of those lavender flowers was overwhelming. I'm 29.

On Avenging My Death and Tarantino

Day two of no alcohol. I must admit I had one of the worst nightmares of my life last night. All because I saw the Dutch version of the highly recommended movie (do not see it), "The Vanishing".

Plot spoiler: The sociopath wins and buries some half wit and his wife alive, next to each other, three years apart.

First off these guys (Eli Roth, Quintin Tarantino, etc.) love this movie because it has a very convincing and developed sociopath, and a nihilistic ending. But come on, the good guy was a moron! I hate that. He may be the antithesis of a sociopath, but he understands them to a degree. Yet he willingly drinks poison from a man who says that he is a sociopath and kidnapped his wife (3 years ago) and also says that he likes to do the most evil things he can think of doing to people. Family, friends, loved ones: don't drink poison from a sociopath three years after my disappearance! Just avenge my death and go about your business.

Second, this movie uses elements from early Alfred Hitchcock as well as some later Twilight Zones. My problem with Tarantino is that he is more of an editor then a film maker- most of his films borrow from Hitchcock, obscure foreign movies, and of course martial arts movies. The man is gifted with the best dialogue an American audience has for this generation, but still he loves these past directors a bit too much. Still a genius, but not my favorite. Below (later) I will list some old Twilight Zones to download. Now I've got things to do!

*Later
Just ask me yourself. A word to the wise though, out of the new and old Twilight Zones, Amazing Stories, and Alfred Hitchcock stay away from Amazing Stories. Spielberg has that whole Disney formula going on.

Human Zoos

My dear friend Alex posted a link to his blog, "Antiwarzone" to the right, so check it out. He also posted links to other writers and it's cool because I like them all (well I don't even know the name of one but I'll check it out). Ezra Pound is a genius (bravo Alex!). However I know this random fact about him that is worth writing down.

Ezra Pound was an extreme anti-Semite an supporter of Mussolini's Fascist Italy during World War Two.

*No Allen Ginsburg, he never reformed. He hated Jews till the end.

Anyway, he just could not shut up about Mussolini and he lost. Got hung and had his body beaten by his own country men. They also captured Ezra Pound. What they did with him is interesting.

Ezra Pound's poem "The Metro" is just a few lines long:

THE apparition of these faces in the crowd;

Petals on a wet, black bough.

Took a entire year to write and he scrapped seventeen pages to edit it down to those two lines! He discovered T.S. Elliot and knew James Joyce. Elliot even dedicated "The Waste Land" to Pound, siting in the opening line "To Ezra, the better craftsman".

The Allies forces captured him and put him in a cage on display in, I think, Seattle Washington. He had some sign up to warning the public that this is what happens when you can't keep your K-hole shut about fascism. Ezra Pound was on display, like a gorilla in a cage, for seven days before the academic world protested enough to transfer him into a different cage: They said he was insane (he was definitely not) and he spent the rest of his life in a mental hospital. Despite his weird hatred of the always awesome Jewish race (the people that I have known and studied at least) and despite his political beliefs, he was a great genius of a poet, so check out some of his writing. And stay away from fascism!

A Side Note

So I start this Antabuse today at around 2 o'clock. Already started with the anti-smoking this morning. Now I have a slight concern about taking this Antabuse, Anti-booze drug. It's got a lot of side effects. My main concern is the line, "This drug may frequently cause serious (rarely fatal) liver disease." How fucking funny is that? They actually say in parenthesis "RARELY FATAL". And what the heck? it's supposed to be working with my liver, since I can't drink anymore. Now, I can handle many other side effects to the drugs I've taken in the past (legal and illegal and rarely fatal) but certain liver disease is not a highly desirable side effect....it's better to assume it causes liver disease and get on with it. Why did they have to spell it out? I'm an alcoholic, my liver and I don't get along well. I'm trying to make friends with it again. Regardless, I'm going on with this medication because drinking is the devil incarnate. I have a life to live.

My homework: How to Be Ambitious

Bored around the house today at 29 years old and no responsibilities. So I told my boyfriend I'd write a blog siting all the reasons I love the man (ex: stayed by me even when I was on drugs, knows when I'm happy and that makes him happy) but he gave me a different assignment. Write about how to be ambitious. Ok.

Of course I'm going to redefine ambition (lets call this "what motivates me") and go from there. What am I going to do with my time?

The answer could be something like this: I overheard a woman bartender, from the most spectacular restaurant overlooking the Pacific Ocean in Trinidad, talking about the 10K marathon she just ran. I can image this woman's perfect life: beautiful, socially graceful, long brunette hair, serving wine in style while getting to watch the sun set over the ocean every night. And by day she is living with the strength to run into shape for a 10K marathon. That's a person with life in their bones.

Lets see...I could do a marathon, take up vegan cooking, join a volunteer service, garden my heart out, poems and more poems, read those heavy Russian books people always talk about, learn to do a back flip, study random women's posture at the grocery store, play chess, youtube Cat Stevens less then ten times (a day) and use that time to walk down the street, take deep breaths and praise the air. How will this make me money?

Now that I have been given a medication that forces me to not drink even a drop of demon alcohol, plus an anti-smoking drug, I have more tools. I'm at the bottom but at least I stopped what I blame for pulling me down. Now where can I go? What have I been missing?

For money I can't see writing as an answer. And there are miles to go before any teaching credential. Miles to go so I'll start by blogging the start of a healthier me, and you can watch me like a lab rat do the transition from bad brain chemicals to rise into heaven. My first ambitious act will be to consciously smile more. Then I'll go out the door more. From there the world is undiscovered with my new healthy mind and Magellan is ready to explore a more positive reality. I'm trying. How this will make me money, I don't know. But there is a place for me in this world, and I'm trying to fit in with some value while picking up wisdom along the way. Trying not to break. I'm trying.

What to do with a writing degree?

When I was twenty years old I had an epiphany. Drug induced to be honest. Projected on a blank white wall I saw these swilling images of the Stations of the Cross. I saw people, rapidly moving, scampering around, playing out all the emotions of what the Stations of the Cross are a metaphor for once you look at that fable objectively. While carrying a heavy cross a person fell, people helped pick it up, they left, some more helped, some oppressed, some stretching their arms out with questions. All the emotions of the cycle of life were present in rainbow technicolor. For once I saw all this pain and grief, love and loss, as if I was watching a movie. I was separate, yet knew I was in the middle of this drama until my death. It was so beautiful, even in its futility, that I carry that theory with me till this day. Humankind will always cycle around in this drama.

I had the pleasure of hanging out with a friend of my boyfriend's a few days ago. This man lives alone with nothing but tons of art books from thrift stores, a record player, and a highly active mind. He asked me where I was going with my writing.

Nothing was my answer. My plan is to live the most interesting life possible, observe unique people, hear their stories, and write it down. Record my life.

He had an idea: he said all this generation has is Martin Scorsese to draw inspiration from. He thought I should be the voice of punk rock (NO!) and write down these adventures that I have had and that I have known other people to have had. He even said I should embellish a little.

I'm getting a head of myself. The conversation started because he believes people want to be exposed to drama- to grief. That they are, "vampires" and need to feed off of the tragedies of others. I hope he is wrong.

I do not wish to honor people who lived on the fringes of society by doing violent acts. I wish to honor the life of those who inspire. My first (and only novel) I hope to write is about what children talked about at recess in Elementary School, then juxtapose their innocent questions with the mind of the adult reader. Child-like bliss. So people will not forget. Positive, yet a little perverse. The point is to remind adults of what we forget in our daily lives: innocence.

I will never write about what drives people to drink, or do drugs, or break hearts. I'm walking a thin line with my own and I don't want to dredge up stories that I try to forget. So I suppose I'm something of an escapist. But I can make that my reality.