What I Am Eating

I ate these sweet, low acid guys in a very nice Sunday salad. The Capitol Hill Farmer's Market features a large number of local farmers. You know, there are more than you'd ever guess just from looking at the neighborhood.

If you're concerned: this is not an endorsement of the lycopene delivery bulb, typically too acidy for my delicate piehole. Other veges should be here as well. I am immediately concerned that the lettuce didn't get any airtime. Next time.

Coincidences

I find coincidences reassuring. Good, bad, indifferent, all reassuring. Yes, there were all those questions at the end of my last post, but those were more histronic than what I feel.

I believe that you've got to be running on all cylinders to have such stuff happen. Synchronicity occurs when there's some stong level of preparedness, spiritual or otherwise, in place.

On Sunday, I spent a bunch of time talking with my nieces, which is always one of my life's pleasures. We spoke of many things; Rachel and I were sharing excitement about the coming XMen release. Why can't mutants and humans just get along? Stephanie mentioned Saramago's Blindness as a serious thang to read.

Of course, yesterday, I walk into the excellent, small yet powerful Bailey/Coy Bookpimps and see the Entertainment Weekly issue with XMen on the cover. THAT is not much of a coincidence. However, on B/C's one tiny table of used books: Blindness. Reader, how good is that?

Union of the Trilogy

The ever popular myth of "threes" reared its silly, ungainly head today. You know, the celebrities die in a convenient, easy-to-open packet of threes. My version, hearing about tiny kids who are visited by the supernatural or superterrestrial. This afternoon, a cute little towhead (who was wearing FROG boots! One of my nephew's obsessions!) was talking with his adult handler about the ghosts he's been seeing. That makes three tales from kids about the other side.

Now, I am a mostly sensible person. I even concocted a reasonable sounding theory about how my increased spider sense could account for noticing little kids and their imaginations. But, come on! Almost two days in a row, I've heard snipets of two conversations with kids and both were about Entities that Can't Be Explained.

I've watched enough cop shows to know that this is no longer a coincidence, but must point to a truth of what the children saw. What the heck else do I have to reconsider? Are adults just corrupted, deadened children? Were those things in my room one night really visitors that I thought were dead? Was the scarlet wax that appeared on my pillow an ugly warning? Does this mean that there's a benevolent diety as well? No wonder I'm tired this evening.

Monster Trends

One of my favorite things, phenomena, I'll call amplified awareness. That occurs when you have a new object in mind. Best example, buy a new Corolla and you'll see tons of Corollas. It's not that you are the tipping point, it's just that you have new filters on how you see the world.

I have been a party to this in a delightful way, I think. You might have read recently about Eli, the frogs and aliens. Well, there's been another sighting.

I was walking down the street on Saturday, minding my own business, when I approached a mom-like person and a little girl, eight or nine maybe. I eavesdrop as much as the next voyeur, or ecouteur. The little princess (hey, that's how she was dressed) was talking about the Goblins that she hung out with. Her companion was highly amused and asked questions like:

"Are they boy goblins or girl goblins?"
"Mostly girl goblins."
"What do they do?"
"Well, the one girl goblin raps all the time."
"You mean, like rap music?"
"Yeah. She raps all the time."

As I arrived at the door, I looked back and grinned at the mom-like person who smiled back and couldn't be more perplexed or delighted.

This must be a fortuitous time for aliens, demi-monsters and otherworldly companions in the lives of children. I hope that is a large, continuing trend for kids. At the very least, now's a good time for me to tune in and get a clue about the hidden forces around me. At the very least.

Johsel Namkung

Last night, a friend and I went to a lovely show and warm talk by Johsel Namkung, a terrific photographer of nature. His large scenes are abstract and small somehow, the "universe in a grain of sand" idea. One sure way of gauging my excitement is by counting how many of the photos (large format) I wanted to rip off the walls and make a dash with. Quite a few.

This was also a special evening because my friend Laurie's uncle was Namkung's best friend. Having her there made this experience more intimate and personal.

I was most delighted with a slide sequence of Mt. Baker that he shot with a mind to sell the image to a regional company. When the slide came up, the audience oohed because it was a typical, stunning image of mountain, autumn leaves, reflecting lake. He then gently disparaged the photo and pointed to a ruffly area in the foreground lake. That was where he saw something special.

Indeed, there was this lazy, rhythmic water grass which he shot close up. Reminds me of the delicacy of Cy Twombly's writing series or John's Snow series. Really mesmerizing, gentle and transporting. That was the special thing for him. Finding a natural image that provokes something larger and something smaller.

He also has a healthy distrust of color. These large canvases gain a surprising amount of abstraction and painterliness because of that. I roamed over his image of bare trees on sawtooth Korean hillsides. Took me some time to realize that this was a photo and not a painting. White, gray and a dash of evergreen. As Laurie said, it's easy to see where the vertical, abstract typically Asian landscape style comes from when you look at this topography. It looked like the land was reaching for a barren heaven. After all, this park was near the border of the two Koreas.

Inspiring show. His artwork generously lends itself to your sight and ideas. He invites that sense of participation. He knows upfront that sharing the images and sharing the authorship of them, is of equal importance. His nature photography is abstract in the best way - you don't lose yourself in his outdoor images, the images create a space to meditate on how to live in the natural world.

Frogs vs. Aliens

Aliens and frogs are the current obsessions of my eight year old nephew. He's a charismatic, sweet big guy who is ridiculously smart and surprising.

Every little person should be so lucky to chase frogs around the dale, if it hasn't been paved over. If the frogs still are to be found. As soon as I think that this is the budding of a young observational scientist, I hear about the aliens too.

According to him and his buddies, the aliens like to hang out in trees (is that the influence of Predator?), vacuum cows into their UFOs and most chillingly, just watch.

The aliens and frogs coexist for him, which I find reassuring. What good is seeing without imagining anyway?

Let Team Sports explain

Anxiety is a team with a strong starting lineup and a deep bench. They might not have superstars, but they play together and want the win every game.

Apparently, during unemployment, the subs were enough to manhandle my starting team. After months away, I've got my second wind. I'm getting closer to employment, closer to a new life in Seattle. Anxiety responds by rotating their starters back into the lineup. They're rested but I'm renewed.

The one thing that they don't know, is that I might be a bit tired, but I've still got my legs beneath me. There are new players in my lineup that add dimensions that I lacked before.

Most important, I want the ball in my hands in the last period. I want to take the shot. That is not on their scouting report. They will be surprised.

Rejection

Called an employer this morning and said 'no' to their offer. Probably a good thing to do on principle.

I don't like rejecting anything or anyone. That passive-aggressive non-choice often leads to someone else to do my dirty work later which then leaves me confused. "Gosh, what happened?" Well, like the philosopher of Margaritaville said "It's my own damn fault."

Saying 'no' while I shape the course of my life is an important step for me. It must build some type of character to reject something decent in favor of something good or great. If not character, then I've got a few more dollars in the self-esteem bank. That saying, "good is the enemy of great" (or something like that) has been weighing on me. I have some idea of how that applies to me now.

I'd like to thank the frozen concoctions for helping me hang on.

Pleasure

I heard a car with a stone in its tire today. As it rolled along, I counted some number of clicks per second. I found some pleasure that I could figure out how fast the car was traveling.

That, and lilac perfume rained down as I calculated.

I bet that's how it works for the career mathematician. Their cognitive circuitry is hardwired in parallel: the idea of number with the idea of some elusive, fragrant pleasure. There must be a solid pleasure from thinking about math, just like nosing a tender spring flower. I'm just guessing. I don't have that pleasure center activated most times, unfortunately.

Ghosts and Shopping

Green vase at Ikea. What a stout little affair: a real headcracker. Sap green bulb with a top port for one brave flower. The green grades darker toward the base as the glass thickens. All that for less than ten bucks. Hand-blown, is the claim. How do glassblowers get any sleep with those Scandavians around?

"Wait, where's the bit about ghosts?" It's okay. The ghosts are gone. You can come out now.

Argument in My Brain

If I belong, I now am inside rather than outside, I'm included. One.

Then it follows that nothing or no one is beneath me.

Or, more importantly to my mindset, nothing or no one is above me.

No person is above or below me, no job is above or below me.

That, is monumental.

Don't Worry, Be Wrong

My job hunt is a good platform for making mistakes, the more the better.

Of course, it's also a good place for me to encounter a subset of my mistakes: the error of not gathering information before deciding to say no. One of my weak points is placing preconceptions onto the world and its companion, opportunity. That prevents me from making mistakes, upsetting the boat and maintains my steady, if anemic, state. This perceptual shorthand for years helped me navigate a world that I didn't understand. Don't need that kind of control and distortion anymore.

With this bad habit of Rumsfeldian prejudgment, I always have had a firewall between me and the world. It won't help me be powerful and true in the real world. Powerful in its best sense, of being myself. Self-coercion and compliance were the primary tools of my old world, ones that I hope to neglect, and see them rust into oblivion.