Happy Valentine's Day Mom!

This may seem strange, but my fondest memories associated with Valentine's Day are the treats and cards my mom used to give me on this otherwise benign and commercial holiday. She'd send me to school with a brown paper bag filled with goodies like chocolate covered almonds (my favorite) and a hand-written post-it note. I guess she never really stopped, just this morning she sent me a text saying "Good morning angel...happy valentine's day! I love you to the sky...lynda says hi:-*" (Lynda is her long-time friend visiting from out of town.) My mom is a really loving and caring person and has always made holidays a special occasion worth celebrating. So while I don't really buy into the greeting card mania or obligatory celebrations, I'm happy my mom made these days a little extra special, especially because now they make me think of her and how proud I am to be her daughter. Happy Valentine's Day Mom!!!

the first rule of being vegan

I don't exactly walk around preaching veganism, or making a big deal about it. If it comes up over a meal, so be it, and I'm more than happy to answer questions about my choices or things I've learned in the process. I've had some interesting experiences as a result - people reacting funny or connecting with other vegans - but ultimately it's taught me a lot about mindfulness. We all eventually come to realize that life doesn't come with a rule book (D'oh!). Most of us write our own or spend our lives searching for some philosophy we can stomach. Still, rules don't generally jive with the ebb and flow of life. Life is dynamic; rules are rigid and static. So while I set certain ethical guidelines for myself to follow, it takes constant evaluation and consideration to know if what I'm doing is best. And in the end, you never really know, you can just guess and hope that not too much harm was done in the creation of your grand experiment.

When people challenge me on my dietary boundaries, I encourage it with curiosity. Is honey vegan? I don't know. Most people would say no, but I don't have any data to support cruelty to bees (it's what they do, no? make honey?) or that it's bad for the environment or that the industry is corrupt. If I learned about some horrible part of the honey-making process, I'd stop eating it. The point isn't to make yourself a slave, or a victim. The point is to make decisions in your life that uphold what's important to you and that help you fall asleep at night with a smile on your face.

The reason I'm talking about being vegan is because it's something pretty common that I think is often misunderstood. I feel like it exemplifies an oversimplification of ethics that is so prevalent in our culture. People deem things "good" or "bad" with no evaluation, and then they build up a bunch of fears and rules around it. Choosing to not eat animal products is a step in the right direction, sure, but it by no means makes you an ethical or "good" person. I've seen animal activists act extremely violently and even, sadly, destroy their own message through their anti-humanitarian behavior.

In veganism, as in life, things aren't black or white. There are always questions and considerations and my hope is that these continue on beyond the adoption of some trendy label. In promoting veganism, I would like to promote thinking and evaluation above any sort of special treatment of animals. Because I believe if we thought more, considered more, and connected to our true nature and values, we would treat animals better anyway. I mean, why not?

So... the first rule of being vegan? Don't make it a rule.

the war of art

Speaking of productivity and tackling those projects that turn from light bulbs to dark clouds over your head over time, I'm reminded of an amazing book I read a couple years ago. In fact, I'm going to take it off my bookshelf and re-read it 'cause it's just that good. A friend recommended it to me and then actually bought it for me when he was visiting NYC. He's a screenwriter and he swears it changed his life. When I lived in LA, I used to have lunch or coffee with him and was always impressed when he said he had to go "work." I was like, what work? To him, this meant spending hours on end in a coffee shop on Beverly and typing away on his laptop. This was, of course, long before he was nominated for several Emmys and a Golden Globe, when he was merely a bit-part actor struggling to get by. It just goes to show how persistence and hard work can go a long way. I'm telling you, this book well help light that fire under your bottom and blow any excuse you come up with to stop out of the water. As if that's not testimony enough, it's divided into short, digestable chapters that are entertaining and highly relatable. Okay, I'm going to stop writing and pick up the book now.

ready, set, do shit!

Do you have things on your "to do" list that carry over from week to week? Little things, like calling so-and-so, putting away the Christmas decorations or just plain old cleaning the house? I've been noticing a lot how these things seem to nag at me and probably take more of my mental energy than it would take to just do it. We're a funny species that way, not always the most logical, but we'll do just about anything to justify our comfort. So tonight I did a little experiment where I made consequences for myself if I didn't finish what I started. I also timed myself to see how long it really takes to do certain tasks. As expected, I was astonished (I know it doesn't make sense to expect to be astonished, but whatever) it took me less than twenty minutes to put away all the clothes that have been piling up for weeks. It's pretty clear that as smart as we are, we don't often use this intellect to our utmost advantage. Sometimes we need to play tricks with ourselves to get the stuff done that we don't find the most favorable. Does anyone else have tricks they use to keep themselves in check and their life in order? Would love to know!

hide and speak

I can't remember when I first learned about Chinese artist Liu Bolin, but I've never been able to forget him... Even though I couldn't really see him... Actually, especially because I couldn't see him. His self-portraits have him blending in with a diverse array of backgrounds, so much so that sometimes passersby don't know he's there until he moves. For me, they evoke sensations of isolation and the harsh reality of how we objectify ourselves and each other. There's something about seeing someone painted like that, like an object, that screams out: you can't hide humanity. I find it so powerful. Not to mention the sheer artistry and dedication it takes to create such pieces. They're absolutely breathtaking, beautiful and unforgettable. Here's a sampling of his photographs and a short video:

freedom for sale (pt. 1)

As you are likely well aware, I think a lot about a lot of things—mostly benign, inconsequential things, but in the end, don’t all our experiences play an equal part in shaping what we call existence?  I was sucked down the rabbit hole once again on a recent trip to the gym.  I don’t know if they have this at many gyms, but shortly upon entering there is a table with a small basket on it.  If you look inside this basket, you will find a uniform pattern of metal, plastic, leather, and possibly something furry – otherwise known as: a pile of keys.  On a busy day, the pile will overflow onto the table and resemble the entrance of one of the parties, you know, with the keys, and the husbands, and the wives...  Anyway, the first time I saw this, I remember thinking, “Wow, anyone could just take someone’s keys and take off,” to which I was immediately horrified at my own assumptions and projections about people.  I then proceeded to logically evaluate the situation.  If someone is a member of the gym and goes there to work out, it’s highly unlikely they happen to be a car thief planning on pumping some iron before taking off in someone’s Range Rover.  Also, this particular gym is located in a fairly well off suburban area, where I often leave my keys in my car when I run into a store and almost always leave it unlocked.  Then I began to think a bit deeper about what it means to have a key basket based on the very real fact that someone could take someone’s car keys and with a small amount of work, could even have access to their home.  When I think about the generous collection of keys at my gym, I feel excited and hopeful.  For me, it signifies trust.  For some, it may just be convenient.  But even though I used to just carry my keys in my pocket, I now make a point of putting them in the basket* on account of what it represents. *Since the time this was written, I'm sad to report the key basket has been removed. I didn't ask why, but I'm going to make a point of doing so. To be continued...

Merry Christmas to the Ground!!!

Christmas shopping is pretty low on the totem pole of priorities for me, but this year I had a hilarious experience as I attempted to avoid complete Scrooge status. It unfolded like an after-school-special: too good, and too absurd, to be true. It started when I heard some guy talking on the radio about the Stanley Cup. I just happened on it after all the usual channels were playing garbage (and I don’t mean the band). The guy was the author of a new book detailing the adventures and exploits of hockey’s coveted prize, along with its faithful handlers. Apparently every player of the winning team gets to spend twenty-four hours with the cup, no matter where they are in the world, and no matter what they want to do with it. All I can say is, if that thing could talk... But anyway, I immediately thought of a good friend of mine who I would endearingly label a “sports junkie.” I met up with him at a sports bar once and when we left, we got into his car only to listen to the game on the radio all the way home... Where he proceeded to turn on the television... Well, you get the idea. So naturally, I thought the book would be perfect! And it was just a few days before Christmas! Score! Needless to say, I was disheartened to learn it was completely sold out at both Barnes & Noble AND Borders--it was even out of stock on Amazon! I didn’t know that was even possible! Cut to December 23rd, I was driving past a little local bookstore. On a whim, I decided to go in and check. You never know, right? Stranger things have happened. So I ran in. It was five minutes before they closed. They didn’t have the book. The guy informed me that even the distributors were out, so he didn’t know when they’d be getting them in. Then he asked if I’d tried their other store. I told him I hadn’t. So he gave them a call and, to my joy and disbelief, they had it! To be more specific, they had one copy. So I gave him my name and went on my merry way. I had it all planned out. The next day was Christmas Eve and I would stop by a couple stores to get some goodies for friends, pick up some food for dinner that night, then get to the bookstore before it closed and pick up the holy grail of gifts. I got to the store in plenty of time. I gave the guy behind the counter my name and he dipped under the counter to grab the book. It was to good to be true. Everything was working out perfectly. I proceeded to tell the guy how hard it was to find and how I couldn’t believe my luck. He shrugged a little and raised his eye-brows in rapport. I told him I would just grab it because I wanted to look around for a bit. He said they had a special place behind the counter and I could just pick it up when I was ready. Seemed logical enough, so I looked around for about ten minutes. Nothing jumped out at me, so I headed to the counter and asked for my book. That’s when the slow motion kicked in. He looked on the counter then under, his eyes getting wider with each glance, until his eyes finally met mine. He didn’t know where it was. He looked horrified, like a kid who came home from the playground, only to find his mom saying, “Where’s your little sister?” It was pretty entertaining actually. I don’t even think there was one moment where I felt angry or upset, I was laughing too hard on the inside. Murphy’s law was at it again. He went all over the place looking for it, but ultimately gave up and deduced he had mixed it with another pile of books and put it in the previous customer’s bag-which only sweetens the story really. It’s not like someone came along and bought it. Someone was going to open their bag and find a book they didn’t buy and didn’t even want. I tried to convince myself they might see the mistake and bring it back to the store, but no such luck. So to that customer: Merry Christmas!!! As for my friend the sports fan, he got a hilarious story instead. Oh, and an empty amazon box containing a picture of the book.

Please note, the clerk was incredibly apologetic and kind. He gave me a gift certificate and phoned me as soon as the book came in. And my friend says it’s a great read! Highly recommended!!!

failure notice

fail·uren. 1. The condition or fact of not achieving the desired end or ends: the failure of an experiment. 2. One that fails: a failure at one's career. 3. The condition or fact of being insufficient or falling short: a crop failure. 4. A cessation of proper functioning or performance: a power failure. 5. Nonperformance of what is requested or expected; omission: failure to report a change of address. 6. The act or fact of failing to pass a course, test, or assignment. 7. A decline in strength or effectiveness. 8. The act or fact of becoming bankrupt or insolvent.

Ah yes, failure. My dear friend. I didn't know I would see you so soon. But why wouldn't I? You have been with me during so many important moments in my life. When I've ignored you, you've sat by me quietly. When I've been angry with you, you patiently waited for me to come to my senses. Even during my successes, I have spotted you in the back row, reminding me to be humble. You have taught me so many things. Without you, I wouldn't know how to ride a back or tie my shoe. I wouldn't have compassion for the new kid at school. And I definitely wouldn't feel the depth of excitement when I finally got the part. All in all, you've been a loyal friend and I owe you for my success as much as my... ahem... failures.

So, as you may have noticed, I've already not achieved my goal of posting once a week. Rather than justifying, I've decided to write a post every day for a week starting today. I hope it will help train me to write more and, more importantly, share more.

By the way, thank you all for the wonderful comments. I was so inspired by the thoughtful replies to my previous post. Please know that I read them and appreciate them very much!

I thought this inspiring video would be apropos considering the theme of this post. It's a speech given by JK Rowling at the Annual Meeting of the Harvard Alumni Association. Her wise words resonate on both intellectual and spiritual levels. I hope you enjoy!

J.K. Rowling Speaks at Harvard Commencement from Harvard Magazine on Vimeo.

New Year Happy Yay!

I’ve never been one to blindly follow convention. In fact, more often than not, I find myself defying it... blindly. So this year, rather than launch into some logic-driven diatribe about how New Year’s is a mere construction and people should view every day as an opportunity to evaluate their lives, make goals and take stock of the important things in life, I decided to take a step back and make New Year’s meaningful for myself... just like everyone else. Which brings me to my first resolution: See myself more in others:

Rather than focus on ways I’m different than other people, I want to embrace the things we have in common. I think it’s a natural part of growing up to identify oneself first by who one is NOT, before discovering who one is, but sometimes we don’t shake the habit without a concerted effort. I often find myself wanting to be different, or judging others for the things I don’t accept in myself, and besides being utterly dishonest, it’s just frickin’ exhausting. At the end of the day, we’re all human beings. We’re all looking for joy, love and a sense of purpose. Some people have seen more or done more than others. Some have achieved more, traveled more, partied more, earned more. Some have lost more, cried more, suffered more, loved more. But underneath all those qualities and external markers, there is an experience that is uniquely human, and that is something we all share. This year I want to celebrate that experience and accept everything that comes with it--both in myself and others.

In a way, the rest of my resolutions are a subset of the first... Kind of the measurable practices I can do to achieve a deeper sense of human being-ness.

Make exercise a habit:

Big surprise, right? But there’s more to it than just the physical gain (or loss, as it were). Just as I defy my “commonness,” I also struggle with routine, and while I can get away with quick spurts of inspiration every now and then, true growth and achievement requires persistence. Physical goals are great in this regard because they’re so measurable - probably another reason I avoid them so much. I’m going to start by walking every day, even if it’s just a little, and work my way up to running a race. As it stands, I hate running, but I think what I hate more than actually running is that I suck at it. So here’s to physical fitness! And doing things even if you suck!

Write more:

For several months now I’ve been writing for at least fifteen minutes a day. It’s been great in forming the habit, but I want to develop a more refined practice and work on substantial pieces that I can publish, either on my blog or in magazines. I’ve said it before, but I really want my blog to reflect not just what I think and feel, but how I evolve. Weekly posts will be my first goal. Questions and topics of interest welcome.

“Phone a friend” more:

I’m a bad friend, I’ll admit it. Not because I don’t show up if someone needs me, but because I don’t show up when they don’t. I’ve always found it easy to meet people and make friends, but proactively pursuing a relationship with someone is not something I’ve practiced. Just like my physical fitness, I’ve taken my friendships for granted and not put in the time and effort to build the relationships I want. This year I want to be a more active friend. I know a lot of people in a lot of places and sometimes just a quick email or phone call can mean the world to someone; I know it can for me. It's never that I don't care, in some ways it's just the opposite. I let my fears get in the way of reaching out, when in times of struggle, that's exactly what I need to do the most. So watch out friends, new and old, I'm coming for ya!

Learn some shit:

Like with running, I have an allergy to doing things I don’t feel mildly competent in. This worked fine when I was a teenager because I was pretty talented and it allowed my to try lots of different things, but those talents don’t evolve unless you push past the discomfort of failing. As an adult, being able to kickflip or play Nirvana songs on the guitar aren’t going to get me very far. So this year I’m going to do something I’ve pretty much never done: practice. I have a few areas of interest--guitar, spanish, design, dance--but the important part is the act of practicing. Daily. Something. Anything.

I think that about covers it. I hope that by this time next year I can look back on my current self and shake my head at my ignorance... with compassion of course.

I wish all of you a year of kindness, compassion, failure and growth! :-)

and then there was comic-con

After my laid back Montreal getaway, I knew I was in for a bit of a transition leading up to the New York Comic-Con. Still, I don't think I could have been prepared for the mosh pit of candy-colored cosplay craziness that awaited me at the Javits Center. Don't get me wrong, I love a good mosh pit (I grew up in the nineties after all), especially when everyone's sweet and smiling and friendly... okay fine, I guess that doesn't really qualify as a mosh pit, but I can honestly say there was a certain air of humanity that seems to have lacked at other large conventions I've been to *cough* San Diego Comic-Con *cough*. Because I decided to go pretty last minute, most people weren't expecting me, so I got a lot of people doing double takes as they walked by my booth. This either resulted in them blushing, pointing and walking away, or actually coming over and talking to me. The latter is always a preferable response, but I always wondered how the monkeys in the zoo felt, so there you have it. It was actually just busy enough that there was a steady flow of people, with time for breaks and photos ops, but not so crazy that I couldn't stop and chat with people. It's nice to find that balance and not have to rush through the day. I feel like if I were a fan, I would value the experience of getting the autograph just as much as the signature I walk away with. Sorta like how looking at someone else's photo album isn't quite as exciting as seeing your own; because when you look at your own you have all the feelings and visceras associated with the memories and you can access them through the photograph. I'm not so vain to think anyone would want to relive an interaction with me over and over, but I know how I've felt meeting people I admire, and it can be pretty cool.

It never ceases to be humbling hearing people's stories about how the show has affected them. Battlestar is almost like a disease, where everyone has their own unique story of how they contracted it, how they've lived with it, how it changed their life in some way, and what it's like for them now that it's over. Some people caught a milder version of the epidemic, while others are still down for the count. It's not always easy to understand the weight of something when you're involved in the creation of it. The cook at a restaurant probably can't quite enjoy his meal the same as a customer can. Not that either way is better, but it's different, so I appreciate hearing people's stories and gaining a deeper understanding of my own experience through them.

I thought the panel at NYCC was pretty well done. It can be a little awkward when the set up is so formal because you don't know who's going to talk and for how long and you don't want to interrupt, or drag on, or get a picture taken of you with a water bottle in your face. Despite the elements, though, I thought it was really fun. It was great to catch up a little with Katee and Tricia, and I fall ever more in love with Michelle the more we spend time together. I was actually quite content to let her to do most of the talking. Here are a few shots my friends were kind enough to snap from the audience:

I'm always too busy, and admittedly a little overwhelmed, to take many pictures at conventions, but I usually come home kicking myself wishing I had. Thankfully with the magic of the internet, there are lots of great pictures online of the event, I strongly suggest checking them out.

We also had a pretty successful run promoting Godkiller. The director, Matt Pizzolo, and I did a quick signing at the Graphic.ly booth (whom they've recently partnered with) and introduced the film to a bunch of people. I'll probably be releasing some signed copies through my website, so stay tuned if you haven't checked it out already.

Thank you to everyone who came out, it was such a blast! 'Til next time gadget!

montreal, je t'aime

All of a sudden I have a whole bunch of things I want to write about, but it wouldn't be right if I didn't catch up on my convention escapades first... I actually wrote about my trip to Montreal on my way to the NY Comic Con, so here it goes: Time for another convention download! I better hurry or I’m going to crash my hard drive - my brain’s hard drive that is - as I’m headed to another convention this weekend... I had a great time in Montreal. The convention was quaint and community oriented; in other words, very small. It's always nice, though, because you get to have closer interactions with the fans and overall it’s just more relaxed. Like most small conventions, it seemed the people shared a history and the convention served as a reunion of sorts. I enjoyed the dysfunctional-family-dinner feel and felt very much welcomed by everyone there. Fortunately, I wasn't forced to unleash my neglected French, though I did escape a few tourists asking for directions with a convincing, "Je ne sais pas." But anyway, since my time spent at the actual con didn't go beyond my two Q & A's and a few hours signing, I had the luxury of wandering around Montreal, checking out some live music, taking a yoga class and eating at some awesome vegan restaurants. Here are some random photos of my trip.

Other discoveries I made in Montreal include:

  • Diamond Rings (walked into a performance randomly and have been smitten ever since. his new album came out today! yay!) http://diamondringsmusic.com/
  • Aux Vivres (excellent vegan fare and fun atmosphere) http://www.auxvivres.com
  • Bixi bikes (worked off the vegan chili with a little cruise around town on a rental bike. a little intimidating in traffic, but totally worth it. i hope the rest of the world catches on soon) http://www.bixi.com
  • No right turns on a red light! Say whaaaaat?

this blog is a lonely hunter

It's interesting to me how my feelings towards blogging change, transform, evolve and sometimes hide in the attic for extended periods of time. It's not that I don't think about it, I do, but like an owed phone call to a distant relative, the more time that goes by, the harder it gets. The spontaneous spurts of daily inspiration don't seem heavy enough to warrant a comeback, but I rarely sit down to channel the deeper workings of my psyche into something I hope will be interesting and meaningful to others. Rational or not, I realize it's beside the point - the value rests just as much in my experience writing as it does in any feedback I receive, and it's only when I commit myself to the former that I find any satisfaction in the latter. Along  the way, I've learned a lot about the power of the written word, often reaching people in ways I never expected. This definitely inspires me the most, and is perhaps also why I struggle the most. What started as an innocent attempt to feel I had something important to say, has lead to a deeper questioning of what I actually want to say and why; sometimes the answers are easy, sometimes not, but always seem to lead to more questions. Still, underneath the doubts and rationalizations is a genuine desire to connect with the rest of the world, to share the stories I hope are relatable and inspirational, building my own sense of knowledge and wisdom in the process. Often I don't even know the moral of a story until I write it. The action itself helps me tap into something other than myself, finding lessons in even the most seemingly benign occasions. Since nothing is meaningful unto itself, it's our experience, beliefs, filters and values that make it, so I learn a lot in the process. What is meaningful to me and why? Ultimately, these questions are what I hope to inspire in others.

Well it seems I've written a perfectly self-referential post, a regular Cervantes, Charlie Kaufman or, let's face it, Mel Brooks. In any case, I'm happy to be writing again. How is everyone? See any good movies? Read any good books? Have any profound realizations in the bathtub?

Cyphan-tastic!

A week has already come and gone, but I’m still all smiles when I think about my recent trip to Chicago for Cyphan. Such an excited and welcome bunch, and a really well organized convention all round. I’m pretty sure everyone in attendance came away with some fond memories, some new friends and probably some fun new toys. I didn’t get a chance to look around too much, but the dealers room had some really neat things - I even borrowed some steampunk goggles from Julie (she'd bought them for her son, hope he didn't mind). They also hired a professional crew to come in and recreate the Star Wars Cantina - seemed to help all the storm troopers feel right at home. One of the highlights was a somewhat random and serendipitous occurrence... With everyone in full costume and full swing the night of the Browncoat Bash, there happened to be a wedding reception down the hall in one of the other banquet rooms; all ties, updos and fancy dresses. As it turned out, however, the bride and groom were huge Star Wars fans, so they boldly requested that the gaggle of Storm Troopers, Sand People, and even Darth Vader escort them down the aisle. Amazing right? All can say is I wish I could have seen the looks on their grandparents’ faces as they entered the room under the glow of light sabers. I can’t even imagine how awesome that must have been, especially for the bride and groom. Definitely not your typical wedding album. Even though I couldn’t see, the roar and applause echoed down the hall and turned my anticipatory giddiness into the embodiment of: “That was f’ing awesome.” So yeah, that was cool. What was also cool was the enthusiasm of all the people dressed in costumes (I know some of them are not comfortable, but they're a dedicated crew). One guy dressed up as Civil War Royalty held my tea for me while I took pictures, and he held it with such regal authority, I started to feel bad, like he was above such a chore. Luckily there were some lowly deckhands around to ask for future favors :) Anyway, here are some fun photos from the con. I hope more of you can make it out next year. And if you have any more photos, please post ‘em, either here or on my facebook fan page.

check out kitty zombie's site: body of a killer. mind of a puppy. sweetest and most playful zombie you'll ever meet. and the guy inside is just as sweet...

i was admiring some photos i'd seen of his character, a really beautiful photo essay of him with a little girl. so he later presented me with my own print... and even signed it. i just love it. thanks again kitty!

check out Joan Varitek's website, she's super talented. i was lucky enough to get my own print of this one too. thanks Frank!

before I left on Sunday, my dear friend and fellow Sci Fi veteran, Julie Caitlin Brown, ventured into Chicago for a "taste." Literally, we went to this massive event called "the taste of chicago" where local restaurants set up booths and sell you their token dishes. There wasn't a huge selection for me, being vegan, but I managed to find some yummy veggie tacos and watermelon ice. We were melting in the heat, but at least got to see a few sites.

Alright, that's all folks! Have a happy 4th a July!!!

because it's just true

i only picked up this book from the library yesterday (getting books you've put on hold and forgotten about is like christmas!), so i'm not too deep into yet.. still, i can't get this sentiment out of my head. so simple, honest, revealing and true.

“If you can think of times in your life that you’ve treated people with extraordinary decency and love, and pure uninterested concern, just because they were valuable as human beings. The ability to do that with ourselves. To treat ourselves the way we would treat a really good, precious friend. Or a tiny child of ours that we absolutely loved more than life itself. And I think it’s probably possible to achieve that. I think part of the job we’re here for is to learn how to do it. I know that sounds a little pious.”

– David Foster Wallace

if

i came across this little gem of a video the other day and thought i'd share it in honor of dennis hopper's passing and in celebration of kipling's moving and noble ideals...

street art that moves

i recently saw a really cool documentary called megunica, which followed street artist 'blu' across central america. it was pretty low key, not much story, but the visual narrative was stunning. blu's art is pretty spectacular. just check out this painted wall animation: [youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uuGaqLT-gO4&feature=related[/youtube]

home!

so many reasons why this video rules. but proceed with caution: you will not be able to get this song out of your head! i promise. [vimeo]http://vimeo.com/11691174[/vimeo]

scents of wisdom

Today I pulled up beside a rumbling semi-truck, my window barely reaching the height of the tires.  The sound was loud, but I wasn’t bothered by it, I was entranced.  When I was a kid, my dad took us on boat trips.  My mom used to say it was the only place he felt at peace, on the ocean’s vast expanse.  We would travel to little islands, spending the night moored at creaking docks, swimming in lakes, and losing fishing weights off the back of the boat – I always wondered where they ended up, the lost and found at the bottom of the sea.  I would sit in the galley playing solitaire, eating cream cheese on wheat thins, or, like any other solitude seeking teenager, reading Carlos Castaneda in my tiny cave of a bedroom.  Or I would be found sitting cross-legged on the bow, navigating our course with my thoughts.  I don’t know what it was like for my dad, reliving his previous life as a sea captain perhaps, but I know that for me, as we became a speck barely visible from shore, I felt freer than I’d ever felt.  I felt connected to the world and connected to myself.  Nothing was impossible and nothing truly mattered, only the wind luring tears down my cheeks and the sun kissing freckles on my nose.  I could almost smell the salty air as I sat in traffic today, inhaling the intoxicating smell of the diesel engine.  My body began to sigh with a tinge of sadness, but I quickly recovered and embraced the memory, recognizing I can feel this way whenever I want.  I took a deep breath.  The freedom is within in me.  Then the light turned green.


dirty deeds

When I was in 9th grade, we did a science experiment where we took a swab of any area of the school we wanted and grew bacteria cultures. It was an opportunity to let the forensic juices flow and attempt to expose the most unassuming germ factory. We were told not to swab the toilets, an obvious bacteria festival, but my curious mind couldn't help but ponder the ritual of hand-washing, and its effectiveness. The reason being, we typically turn on the tap (with our germ covered mitts), wash our hands, and turn off the tap (with our clean mitts, touching the dirty faucet). Herein lay the inconsistency. However, this was the 90’s, before automatic sensors were the norm. Today, my experiment would be irrelevant. Considering I grew up with manual faucets, toilets with handles, and car jack style paper towel dispensers, I’m amazed at how quickly I’ve adapted to our current bathroom luxuries. More than once, I’ve nearly walked out of a stall, registering the silence, and recognized that the toilet wasn’t flushing on its own. “Have I really become so entitled?” I would ask myself as I flush it with my foot. Have I really come to expect nothing less than subservient machines making my toilet going as easy as a no touch car wash? The truth is, yes. But not because I need it, or even care that much, but because I’m a highly adaptable human being. It never particularly bothered me, having to flush the toilet, turn on the tap, nor pump my own soap. It was a routine I did, if not joyously, at least neutrally; usually preoccupied with other past or future events.

I didn’t think much of the germs despite my ninth grade experiment. I hadn’t known anyone to die after using a public restroom, and was pretty sure the stress of avoiding all possible foreign antibodies would be much more detrimental to my health than a little critter hanging out on my hands for a while. So it’s funny, then, that I feel totally programmed to expect automation. It would seem that it has more to do with convenience with health. I have no idea why it’s become the standard. Did people complain about having to flush their own toilet? Is it better for the plumbing? Surely it doesn’t conserve water usage. Can you say premature flushes? Perhaps the fact that the faucets only work half the time, or only work when you find the sweet spot, often left untapped by exasperated potty goers, is what makes up for all the flushing action. My favorite image is watching someone wave frantically in front of the faucet, only to realize it’s not automatic. That’s classic.

But in all seriousness, I bet some children know nothing else. What will happen to these poor ignorant souls when they travel overseas? They shalt leave toilets unflushed and with hands unwashed. It’s a dirty thought, but a serious one. Well, not that serious. I suppose metaphorically it’s interesting to think about what happens to our brain processing when we stop having to do things for ourselves and rarely have to figure out how things work. For now, it’s bathrooms. Next it will be kitchens, then cars. Soon, we won’t even need to think about how to work our bodies because they’ll run themselves. Have a nice ride!