03 November, 2010

t.b.d.


dear dear friend,

thoseareleavesblowingoutsidethewindowinthesunandihopetheymakeyouashappyastheymakeme!

um, yes please. i will commission Oliver and his ilk to read bedtime stories to my friends and i. people should be employed for such things. they truly should.

this is the most beautiful morning i have seen to date. it is nearly hot in temperature, the wind is so strong that it appears as if the world is moving in front and before of my feet. & it's one of those days when you need to remember something or someone who did or did not do something. like starting or stopping life, becoming something new within it, or relating it to someone else in some way that they/i/you really liked. i call them 'traditionally bad days', not because they are bad but because the first time i recognized one of these little internal-holidays it was a bad one.

it gives me the uneasy joy i find in trying to define things like wind. & this morning. defining things that are highly conceptual, and hardly containable by a single definition.

wind/vent/el viento/ве́тер

energy moving through gases. moving how? any kind of gases? should the way wind affects things like leaves, birds' feathers and torn antique tractor-seat-leather be part of the definition? i dunno.

not sure why i need to share these thoughts with you, but i am pretty sure that i do. cause you have ever so much time to read such things.

~g

11 October, 2010

peripheral, or right here

you know you live in that well nested space below me
why are you coming from down the street to go away today?
and it's a recurrence, as i now see your partner in the same way.
you both gaze my way, with the face a marathon runner gives to afternoon joggers the day after a 42.195 kilometer gallop.
and 'moving again' has less a nice ring to it today. away from you two.
you don't know what it meant to me that i was invited. that i attended. that you cared.
we maintain our perspective with a certain space, and i am letting go of it.
not with such intention, more acknowledgement of what happens and has taken place.
i can say i will remember all the folk music we shared, and the times i was still-single and you two on the morning-couch reminded me that that wasn't okay/so bad.
these narratives we share, you both edify eloquently
call me a function, but i like how these songs have shaped our lives.
even to not believe, they light days as we negate them.
as we attempt to stay us.
& how much for how long can we/i endure.
i think a lot, i feel we've got it, & holding.
& what's that say for all those folks we don't know so swell?
well, i'm not so sure, but isn't that why we keep trying to know them?
why we work diligently to find the ones that fit?
isn't it?

07 September, 2010

who built this place anyway?

objective facts about left-hand-dominant people:

*we wear watches on our right wrists so that they do not drag the page as we write
*we do not necessarily feel that our advanced sense of aesthetic awareness is due to being left handed
*if you are right handed, we try to sit on your left at a dining table, so you don't accuse us of bumping your elbow throughout the meal
*we are not all anarchists, although some of us are and certainly once were
*we don't find left-handed scissors any more convenient, as we have applied our cutting skills in reverse throughout our entire cutting careers
*we devour life whole, as we have no other choice
*we truly do dislike the mathematics or quantification of most things, although numbers are not so scary
*we make better lovers (for both right and left handed partners, or both)
*we have perfectly good reasons to write only on the backs of pages in spiral-ring-notebooks

27 August, 2010

look at the lens, and smile! (candidly)


some things i have been doing/feeling/not-doing/not-feeling/etcetera in my life longer than the part of my life that they were not true for. these are the ones i am sorta proud of (these lists are the sort of things we do as we approach thirty years of age.):

*falling more in love with people more than they, or i, are ready for (or may ever be for that matter)
*playing music
*appreciating the way things wear over time
*loving words and the ways things can be put
*making a conscious-effort to be less selfish & more genuinely thankful for how other folks effect my life & visa versa
*reading
*thinking critically
*not eating meat (yes, this has always included fish-flesh)
*cuddling
*feeling romantic about nearly everything (no, not necessarily by the relationship definition)
*accepting that i am pretty rad, and that i can become radder
*riding a bike
*not cuddling with capitalism any more than i fee necessary to get bye
*loving my parents for the different people they are, and not for the people who are just different from me. yay, differences are more fun to learn from!
*embracing & oft enjoying loneliness
*thinking of my lovely sis daily
*traveling as much as possible to learn from other places and peoples
*wanting to spend time helping other people have a better time (and occasionally doing so)
*loving abandoned things,and book smells, and vinyl smells, & a few other objects
*feeling it anti-romantic to quantify nearly anything i actually care about
*being thankful for my stellar friends
*writing
*not editing much of anything, for fear that it could lose its love

these things, along with many others, i have taken on for more years of my life than not (in some instances this may create a double negative. Yeah!). i will be turning thirty years of age some time in the next year, and i kind of want to look back at all this (and that) and think of where i have been & where i might be. not likely to get too far into where i am going, as that is always such a patchwork in progress.

p.s. i believe that 'sun in an empty room', by the Weakerthans, is my favorite song today. i have already listened to it several times this morning. i also enjoy the painting by the same name, by Edward Hopper.

portland summer

good bye until next time old friend. i greatly appreciated every minute of both days we spent together; your glow, the flood of reminiscence you bring to me, the way you lit every room, gave reason to awaken, left early a set of darker pictures on floors in rooms long left vacancies. over and over i have pined for you, and our tryst will be missed.
until your perennial bloom...

13 August, 2010

train tracks skit-scat


the rhythm is dissimilar, yet invokes similarly staunch breaths.
expectation of perfections all on strong fear foundation.
we begin these things in weeks, then months, then we hope to remember.
effortless balance at first, we think of jumping at the totter.
same perception that it all should stay the same.
& there's spray-paint all over this thing.
thorax to toes and back again.
literally covering the hull and bow are tags older than us both.
and we wish to sail it until they fade or are scathed from our understanding.
the materials that makeup our movement arrived on different vessels, from disparate lands, with varying degrees of hardness in the scratch-test.
a patchwork of everything our short lives have moved through and beyond today.
we cover and comfort ourselves with the flesh of what we hope to be real.
and hopeful-hearts, however difficult to admit, are that gentle rhythm.

12 August, 2010

quandary

i once was writing a song, and called the local librarian to settle a dispute between two dictionaries over how to properly spell the word ellipses.
as luck would have it, there are several ways to spell ellipsis.
some may be plural, and other singular, but i was not one to judge such a matter.

08 July, 2010

Weakerthans v. Astronautalis

"Aside", by the Weakerthans and "My Dinner With Andy" by Astronautalis have some strikingly similar melodic bits. Particularly in their choruses. Check it out! I often wonder how intentional these things are, and on the part of whom? Truthfully, I hope they are always beautiful accidents.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A927zcSSw2s

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YjbRf7g4FGI&feature=related

they both host quite eloquent lyrics to boot!

30 June, 2010


?
who is being interviewed here?
if it is i, could we trade places of seating?
if it is you, could you please speak into my other side?
& as for this room, did they paint and & then knock holes in the walls?
is it all to remind this place what it was and what we want it to be simultaneously?
is it all too soon to run screaming and wonder what would have been, had I not?
were there once decorations where there now are notations of accomplishment?
& if walls truly do recall, will you please ask them again to name a favorite song?
these hands, head shaking, uncontrollable smile, where do I put them?
do we know , though no one else knows, that this is in fact happening?
& when the water rushes in from salty ocean topographic shift, do we continue to pretend?
is our own facade strong enough to kill us?
it certainly feels like it might be.

01 June, 2010

tentatively forever after (la playa)


-these dynamics/refrain/shift-of-pitch are far too certain, that's to be certain
-it's not just these days, this week or this well begun year
-my old-souled-goat can climb through lifetimes, cared for and otherwise, and all the while hold notes no others utter
-audible only in certain sequences, with particular attendance
-clip clop wagon wheel, like a blazing fire
-& every time we wonder, well it only makes us wander (and for this we are grateful)

she said they used to love they used to love they used to love-
now they know what they mean-
each and every bird atop the library's clock holds your gaze for second & third scenes-
& numbers depict a sales pitch of what might be the end of even longer days-
breathing in each others exhausted breath the symbol said something of embrace-

-it's a hope in the hands of shaky lovers and their left leaned households' hem-
-and the desire of said lovers is what makes change of their adjacent riches-
-only for a beach-side garden, the laurels wait in patient queues erect-
-and when our eyes open to remind us both that it is not yesterday, we breath ever deanesthetized and fresh-
-feeding fields of mint leaves mending, the sounds become audible to company as present as ever-
-admittedly admitting, the tenets served their tender, and now for some snow-

17 May, 2010

pathology 176

i overheard a person talking aloud about a book that was about a band today. from his tone it seemed he knew people in this band, and had fond memories. he spoke as if there was someone there listening, but he appeared to be alone and without a phone.
i then caught myself talking aloud about how odd it was that he was talking aloud to himself.
that person was crazy.

10 May, 2010

break: a reason for these spaces


too fast? oh, okay. sorry.
not sure how to do these things i have done since i can remember.
you move here and i am off again. not that your movement was for me. nor my absence for you.
but i'll bother to feel bad if it's what you need to feel better about it all.
it's an iterative process, this process of knowing we think we know.
handbooks, ballots to bail out our other last chance: and you taste the same taste.
surely a ghost could do better, but who had time to understand that business anyhow?
so bother to grab me by the shoulders please, because that's what i need to feel better.
persons. places. smells. reasons. things i can not see, and am not sure i should want to. but i want to, and would you please show me?

14 April, 2010

resoled slippers

once you lived in Lisbon
so much more than just a summer
built pyramids of pleasures past, and those that did say never
faster, faster, faster cried the waning wake and tether
indicative of folks who study lives and loves of others

& it's not that I keep doing this
over and over
it's that i'm not doing that
over and over
never subverted
over and over
simply not mentioned

i used to be Algerian, from far external texts
stood in the arms of an ocean deeper than what we see here
worked hard for these marks, and never surrender
scathed from bow to stern, & recalling we both were

& the background sounds bleed bigger, awaiting recognition
all our backs bleed thicker, stood on by some past conviction
interlocking fingers, as if conscience was cohesive
not building fortress around, rather lush gardens within them

10 February, 2010

not a hagiography for my heroine

said it's thought they are under the covers escaping a winter--for a moment i'll believe that, if only to occupy my story book obsessions--the direction their feet mingle, as if a parent/caregiver/oppressor had never dissuade--peering gently through cotton fiber blends to watch the shape sunlight makes today--a stumble, a late family pet, ascended and brings endless loose ends to be tended--a narrative, from the untied tether, concerning retired relatives revolutionary folly--structures spread splinter to tooth, casualty free, lest we forget capitalism...or be forgotten--bed sheets spread in mid-west fashion, pock marked by insurrection--making sense in a bed's context, the narrative shifts willingly beneath sunlit shape--and how free was the choice/will/interpretation of where to hang hats/bomb shelters/a cosmic umbrella--bedsheets narrative is not for question, nor messenger to an inquisition--born in the unlit to die in the light, bright, glow of what might make change--the beauty of dark initial incubation holds far too much nutrient for aged bed sheet shifters--through the window/bedsheet/umbrella, the living/breathing sweat of stronger children we hope to have darker holds--grow

26 December, 2009

i*d*a*h*o (or, the freezingly beautiful, retrospectively weary north)


you don't have an email account. that is likely the most intriguing thing a person has let me in on lately. the garages we hid from cops in, glow like heavens.
those two, they still hang out nightly. and this one still "uses the restroom" every other second minute. chest held, out, not that we've begun to believe it.
the children we all have make children out of all our warm hands. and nothing we ever swore would never change matters beyond some best intentions.
nervously i knew this wouldn't be good, but in that it is. i knew i needed to hurt for a second. needed to see you. breath in the frost bite.
is reminiscing really for our generation? i live distant and you stay as close as you can. both in a veiled attempt to veil all those things we will never do, and others we always will.
i cling lively to anything that looks like your shining aged face. icy rivers, banjos picked softly, hard-drugs, any source of energy. unacknowledged of course. so much of my root grew only in protest to your watering.
unpacking the vestments of your last trip home. we both know. and neither has a clue.
still, to the last syllable, i can not peck your name. draw a face. i'm learning that i like the implications of loosing. the latent ones that give us that hope we didn't have to work for.
talk to you soon, hopefully.

06 December, 2009

hawaiian mistaken


so that's not your number i have been in contact with.
what a quiet. good. bye.
the other end, with its "who is this". "k".
you have become part of the cosmos in a hopelessly illiterate sense.
we all wish to hold you...again.
and hope beyond dreams that you wish the same.
this is not only you, but all of us...we have bills to pay.
is this my message in a bottle?
sure, why not!
it's all the courage and/or cowardice welled up these past days.
and possibly someone else knows more concretely.
but for the more courage/cowardice required, we all have bills to pay.
i love you dearly my friend.

02 November, 2009

your lips are my life


i overheard you, as you may have intended.
penned feverishly on what i intended you to think were notes from my reading.
you had aged only eighteen years, this was fifteen years ago, the two of you met in some mathematics class at your high-school. the genre of math was not pertinent to the discussion.
"after fifteen years in a relationship you are really not in a relationship. it's more like, just there"
to this your friend replied, "yeah, but that drug addicted love you feel at first can't last forever. you wouldn't want to be addicted to drugs your whole life. i wouldn't. it has to calm down and become normal at some point".
you're not sure you still love your partner. not sure you even recall what love is to you. you would "never just leave", but you don't find it necessary to talk about why that is. this feeling/idea that once made you never want a moment away from your partner has evanesced, and where its shadow laid is this constant reminder that it may never return.
you then both go into a narrative discussion of past relationships, finding a conclusion that there is a two year limit on the a priori sense of agape.
& i thank you both for the intriguing & thought provoking conversation.
what is the answer to tall of this? should we resist the impulse to be near each other like hip-sisters in the beginning stages of a long term relationship? would that extend the goodness? is that goodness not the point? i think that the answer lies in the questions being addressed. they are not quite correctly pointed for answers being sought.
more milling this later.
postscript: is this "problem" inherent in monogamy?

30 October, 2009

BLOCKHEAD!!!


no time to enjoy writing, but I have recently enjoyed some super stellar music! please check out Blochead's album titled, Music by Cavelight. particularly the track called "Insomniac Olympics". Some of the best music I have ever heard!
also, P-Love, a Montreal based turn-tabelist has recently put out some mind blowing jams for your head. Check it!
lastly, a great ol' friend of mine recently turned me on to The Gaslight Anthem. for anyone up for some "soulfull" oldschool rock and roll, this may well be your tunnel light, as it has certainly become mine!!!

25 September, 2009

date and name please.

you gave me this shirt-
said it reminded you of her-
now i look at others wondering who you stole it from-
you're the whole story behind my poor tattoos, and i love you-
an aggregated heap of years since we were here-
growing deaf, old, and better as "musicians"-
we all dreamt together of the floors we would sleep over-
squatting countries, curb-sides, and watching closely those who still do-
& i know where i know you from, though not one of us will say-
basement, bathroom, second floor, we're runaways-
everyone i watch now reminds me of you-
'rushing back' may be the phrase to use-
& i see life in this, as i saw in us-
in that cold concrete space, Diamond Heights, all together now!-
this life is in no way complete, never should be-
& looks so much different today

16 September, 2009

of napkin notoriety


little down she said
stand-ups like kickstands beg impermanence
a little like "another" today
but chin-up, the seasons are coming to a close/beginning
weight has dissuade the balance's lanky levers
say i remind you of a lover, followed by faults of uncertain origin
& this is what we do
sit and talk of others, in an effort to avoid this seemingly inherent selfishness
draw upon books we've not yet read
drawing memories on our hands

13 September, 2009

affixed along the hips


i can be a vacation.
also i can serve as a book you hold fast to its epilogue.
furthermore it is possible that i am a page in a calendar with photographs of antiquated swing-sets, which you like very much and keep in a dusty paper box some place until that big move far off.
a long run through cool dark wood, filled with a special sort of excitement that your grandchildren will relish the telling of.
the grade you deserved to receive for work you feel represents your thoughts in splendid order.
the delicate balance between what someone said and what they intended that you never quite wish to spoil with a question.
the dust on both your old records and vinyl that maintains a scent so dear to your heart, tucked in the webbed corner of every other great space.
seasons you love to warm up to, and recall the last when you did the same.
& for this not just a memory, but a piece of something great to help everyone get to the bus stop on time & without panic.

04 September, 2009

perfection is for dreams, reality more for the fucking up

it's a battle, tossup, contradiction
the space between my shelter and yours shrinks each interaction
is this time the one i find some reason behind?
in the still life there are covert options, following orders, hidden by dental lamps
polarization is so weak and waning
and this is not the only ripe fruit, but it is ripe fruit
fuck absolution, and forget it the same way fate and faith were
pieces of a language left on the same island in the same bound book
the links that hold muscles and bones in suspended necessity are absolves of a mission
there is a hustle in the alley that can find solemn peace in a vomit yellow street light
but it is not light or dark that allows me to smile or nod
those are concepts for someone else to uphold and internalize
my reality is in a dirty novel and a pack of your cigarettes

10 August, 2009

tired of hiding

so that was what a bad day looks like.
then i returned home to find a message from my department chair asking for a meeting with me asap.
it may not mean anything at all, but all i can think is that she has more bad news.
i really need a kiss in the hair (the kind you get with a hug from a very dear friend) and a really really really really long hug (the kind we call cuddling). the kind that lets you get it out. the sort that hits you in the gut & reminds you why you do what you do every day. the sort that valiantly gives a fuck about something other than its self & its own historical context.
this blog is not a place for me to rant and let out "my poor feelings", but today (& recently) there is nowhere else for that. the best place feels like this, because no one will read it.
done

15 July, 2009

cartography of me, vol: I

it's not a house shaped after a viola, though i wish it were-
gardens in the f-holes, along the fingerboard, skirting scroll-
shelter in a belly, with hallways scented as all the pain it took to grow-
this thing made of trees, the gut of sheep, & rich in coal from beneath-
texture, resonate, run, run, run-
this space shelters anyone, fill in the blanks as you see it in your moment-
& if the keys loose their tune, allow it-
& if the bridge slips a step, play it-
where your bow meets coal is where you hold the world-
a saddle with no time for pitch perfection-
play off the imperfection and chose what you art will entail-
release, fluidity, run, run, run, run, run

11 July, 2009

things which can be "drawn"

lines, string, out, pictures/images, cards, pistols, numbers, cards, a bath, & quarter, straws, to a close, blinds, a match or competition, together

21 June, 2009

positivism & faith: similarities? *~

clever acronyms delineate the proper worth of a prospective candidate
every last barely breathing thought rationalized to an acute point of stoicism

what are you worth, & to who?

life long aspiration of becoming a specialist. in a decidedly fallow field
the doctor said don't do it. even scientists can't handle hearing narratives of what they don't want to know.

you'll never work in this town again.

houses constructed of ending resources, rooted in shifting sediments
the shift is what goes unnoticed. the movement of energy blinded by an "enlightened" light. emphases on consistency solely.

headlights in the eyes of critique.

move around a globe to find some smoke and a place where weather shifts & animals feel it. the experience will be shared with the choir, but they will sing rather than listen.

the disdain of enlightenment,even now, dilutes you.

16 June, 2009

SHE'S TWO!!!


i know that people in many countries don't celebrate their years of age, and don't even know how old they are, but until she doesn't care we will celebrate the lovely Penelope Beatrice in human years.

13 June, 2009

adolescence?

why can i not recall swinging outdoors when i was 3 years of age?
are psycho-linguistic connections part of the explanation for our lack of childhood memories?

could this be partly explained by the idea that, as young children, we do not have a language to describe or document what is going to happen, is happening, nor what has happened in our lives?

is language the basis of our internal documentation, and if so, do we require documentation for memory? or, are we looking in the wrong place for memory?

could this lack of articulate language be the reason so many other sentient beings do not display the same emotions, or in the same ways, as we do? do they feel these feelings for one another, and others, and simply not recall their interactions as in-depth?

if we could teach our children more concrete linguistic skills in their earliest years, would they recall more?

lastly, someone is likely already studying this, has a name for it, and feels they can "prove" some of these inquiries. just popped up in my head the other day and i thought this a great way to remember it. hah! if you know if any such studies, please send them my way.

postscript: do not connect this to aged memory loss in any linear way, as we do not necessarily lose language skills and there are a whole different set of variables in this situation.

30 May, 2009

so, uh...chaos or smoke? or both?


there are so many misunderstandings whizzing by my overly sensitive dome right now it is making me a bit ill.
i am doing my best to remain positive and remember why i have made the choices i have, but nothing is quite coming to fruition. or even pretending it may at some point.
i am intentionally cryptic here because it seems everything in my life fits this scenario right now. it is not necessary to specify. sometimes this blog is a good place for this "let it out" sort of writing. or apparently is has become such today. huh?
school/work, friendships, other sorts of relationships, child care logistics, and the like.
if i know you, you are a part of one these groups, & there might be something you could tell me that would help me make sense of something, please do! anything! i fully refute the traditional masculine idea of not asking for help. i am one person who can only stand to gain from listening to the perspectives of others, so let it rip!
full explanations or a simple yes/no will suffice. if there is pain involved, bring it! just bring it soon please, so i can get out of this haze.
merci!

13 May, 2009

in another's words

and in a harmonious voice she asked the sky:
is it possible to have true guy friends?
why do they always have to get sprung on me?
so they think i'm atractive, and i'm single, why should this have to consistently change the relationship?
she wondered, does everyone feel this way, or is it just me?
why should it be my job to make relationship dynamics with friends clear?
can't i just enjoy being single, and having a lot of good friends?
what is it about my interactions with men that makes them think i am interested in more than friendship?
why am i wasting my time thinking about something that is entirely someone elses problem?
i have far more important things to take up my time. like remodeling my bathroom.

02 May, 2009

& they make shapes

concerned with linearity
this can not be the only way we understand things
sequences of logable numbers, attached ideas and well lit concepts
set in claustrophobic spaces with specific cut outs
feeling and a cut out
can humyns understand the significance of these licks
the bolts that bind
pieces licensed to a past that has passed
tethers held by teeth hardy cast
may be as perennial as perceived
likely a discretionary perception in a faint wind

23 March, 2009

primavera

my mailbox and I will again move across this city. back a bit further north,and a smaller bit east pdx. old roommates moved out to start new lives: one to marry & the other to work on a farm in far eastern oregon. new roommates are in search of a sense of adulthood, and i am knowing that these things do not change. we simply put on different hats, coats & mail boxes. i will be moving in with three good friends who are also team mates on the bicycle team i spend so much of my time with. one an ex military career person with a philosophy degree and hunger for conversation, another from stuttgart who studies economies through geography and loves my lovely daughter, and a third from salem, or, with a sharp wit and spreading smile. am i excited? i suppose, it is always nice to be some place new. even if only a bit further north and slightly less further east. i have no need to be bitter, but i am ready to make a larger move. barcelona, vancouver, chicago, dakar, sao palo, who knows. any place would be nice, it's just time to leave. alas, this idea is futile right now. place bound i am, and place bound i shall be. and if that must be the case, i suppose portland is one of the best places to bind.
i have fun research looming, penelope beatrice is beginning to speak in sentences & is hilarious, it's about to stop raining, and the world is in a bit of a shift from system to stone. so things look good! also exciting, my new room mates and i are going to play music together! ahh the recap. i plan to soon write something interesting, and less stream of consciousness. for now i will end with a nice quote from
The Weepies: "i held so many people in my suitcase heart, i had to let the whole thing go, it was taken by a wind and snow, and i still didn't know that i was waiting, for a girl, on a slow pony home".
happy spring everyone!

12 March, 2009

finals week again again again

quick note on my cognitive what-not this past & coming week. i have so much to get done that my only release is to ride my bike as hard and long as physically possible. this seems to clear my head, after which i can write essays and research papers. it's a bit ridiculous, and feels amazing.
postscript: my new room-mates installed a full liquor bar to our common living quarters this afternoon.

25 February, 2009

think about direction

we heard you say it was meant to look like running paint, but we all know what that meant-

the lovely shapes your skull makes, shadows in boats on seas we dream of-

what do stars really mean, you told us with your cryptic southern state rap step-

influenced razors and sleeping partners, and stood in your place of plain sight-

& if this is sex I want it, & if this is love I want it more, & those may have been your words,

you are after all, in part your star spangled chest, the reason I can say this-

awe is only one hold of the cradle that is not prepared to fall-

the saints of snow still hold heads differently than those sun blessed-

and I've been here hours waiting, but could not tell you what the table top is made of-

shared drink with both hands on one glass in six eight time-


and somehow none of that is frightening any more, but another bit of dust-

a second piece for you dear friend, sectioned eloquently as you might prefer-

could not tell the color of the bathroom walls, kitchen curtains, or iris accurately-

the keys have worn thin and difficult to read-

modern woman with a world trade agenda, two bold knowing lovers, a grandparent's buck-knife-

and a gut twisting urge to let it all out of the bag


10 February, 2009

eff the johnson control!

some thoughts on the day's musings.

  • is it problematic to use the term "cancer" to describe a spreading problem in an institution, movement, etcetera? according to current bio-research cancer cells do not know what or who they belong to. does this truly correlate to the spread of crisis or dissemination of ideas in a group, or in society at large?
  • is it not an equally Utopian idea to claim that a single dominant paradigm is necessary to create a focused cohesive society, as it would be claim that a pluralistic and multi-dimensional ideology based model is necessary? is either correct? is the idea of paradigm mere shit? should individual perspective be the source of truth and cohesion? would that generate cohesion?
  • ask these questions because the fundamental theory and historical context is often where a paradigm shift finds its beginnings, and maintains a foothold to endure.
  • are paradigmatic shifts always calling for a shift in, or deconstruction of, meta-narratives?
  • to what degree did the formation of the Christian far right during the Nixon era create the possibility for a backlash movement in denominations such as Episcopalian? Does this explain, in part, the current stance of these religious institutions? If so, to what degree?

21 January, 2009

step #5 in the process of "becoming 30 yoa".


(here is something i work every day to achieve, and decided to write down)

the most obvious alternative to most of the things i talk shit about, with regard to other people, would be for everyone to be just like me. this is in no way what i want. i enjoy the diversity of people, and for the majority would never want to change them. "good" or "bad" (save those who are emotionally or physically harming others with their choices).

for this old codger, the time has come my friends. time to stop judging people based on their benign choices, and rather observe and learn from those choices. not to say i wish to be less critical, rather that i should be critical of things worth being critical of and simply learn from other things (yes i know "things" it too broad a term, but i am on a homework break and have no time now to elaborate). i believe it is possible to determine a relatively clear distinction between the harmful and harmless. i am supposedly some sort of sociologist after all. i may as well start making the science more a part of my personal life if i wish to be a good one (that sentence was intended to incite comment from any and all of my post-modernist and deconstructionist readers).

19 January, 2009

la force des oeufs

it's important to recall what it took to get here-
everything began so broad conceptually, and moved pavement under step-
as a reflection of everything i have done and how it should change, this is acceptable-
walking to stores, buildings we call houses and flooded with mixes of emotions-
it's not likely that i can make this clear and benign at the same time-
we hold like eggs under pressure-
it's our shape that keeps us safe-
if i believe that of you we ought to be ok-
but it has come time now, that i think of wearing colors-
my childhood is re-synthesized through the window in the hallway-
my child holds the strings to a cradled new belonging-
and for this we have a synthesis--she wins--simply-
learning to learn is not taken lightly-
and if it's cryptic you like, then you may no longer like me-
we hold like eggs under pressure-
it's our shape that keeps us safe

03 January, 2009

margot's fear of spiral-staircases


& it was beautiful!
my recent excursion to Belgium and the Netherlands (Holland) was in every way amazing! i met some fabulous people, learned a great deal about myself and a bit about another part of the world. i began the trip in Brussels, then Antwerp, Rotterdam and Amsterdam. the sun made an appearance for nearly half of every day, and the temperature never rose above 4 degrees celsius. just what this kid wants from a winter vacation! vitamin D & lots of layers!

my evidently suppressed desire to move to Europe came rushing back in waves and is not likely to ebb this go around. the cultures and political climate of the places in Europe i have visited have been much more similar to my personal beliefs than those i have experienced in the United States. several of the people i encountered welcomed me into their homes and shared stories of their lives with me. it makes no sense, but i felt more at "home" on vacation than i typically do in my home in the states. possibly this says something about my current living situation, but i feel that it is also a clear sign that something larger needs to change. it's simple really. i belong some place else in the world, and i will relocate as soon as i can.

so why don't i just do it? "if you dislike the U.S. so much, why don't you just leave", is a common part of this dialog i have had too many times. to begin, i don't dislike the U.S. as a whole. i prefer the majority of culture (in its plethora of meanings and manifestations) that i have encountered when traveling. it's not a zero sum game. to move to Europe any time soon i would have to convince Penelope Beatrice's mom to let me take her with me, or to move as well. we have both agreed to not split her life in half between us for long periods of time, as this would negate Penelope's need to create social networks and build her own relationships. there are clearly some large benefits that could come from Penelope living half the year in another country, but they are not part of the agreement. in fine, i will likely wait until Penelope is old enough to express for herself how she wants her life to work, and then her mother and i can work together to try and make that happen. until then i will try to visit as many different places as possible, and learn more about the part of the world that i will be moving to. for the moment, Belgium gets the vote!
i am absurdly jet-lagged, and hope to look back at this post with a laugh at its silly structure and poor wording. but there it is. got it out for now. such an amazing trip!

15 December, 2008

an appropriate quote for a foregotten war

"If we cannot by reason, by influence, by example, by strenuous effort, and by personal sacrifice, mend the bad places of civilization, we certainly cannot do it by force."

Auberon Herbert, 1894

14 December, 2008

serenade of sirens


a lovely blizzard!

those are the most succinct words to describe portland this fine sunday morning.
i walked home with my bike from a friend's apartment as it began to fall from all sides. friend on the way to the airport, to some place much warmer than this. i hold no envy. enjoy!

snow is winter's sunshine!

stopped at a greek restaurant for breakfast, and as i did, left my mittens outside beside my bike lock. they are keeping someones' hands warm now.

i want to think that the committee of whatevers that oversees our planet's weather knew that i am off to belgium and luxembourg next week. "send some snow to portland before he flies", one thoughtful whatever exclaimed. i am happy to have not missed this!

this the second day after a trying finals week, and nothing is more welcome than this storm. it reminds me of a place i called home for the first twenty years of my life. now i think of that pace, and use verbiage like "they" and "the people there...". finally internalized a relatively lost connection to that place. but today i can think of little but that place. the feet of snow we had by this time of year. days spent at my grandparent's house, shoveling off their roof and car-port. driving to sled or ski with my sister. smoking in the bitter cold, with warm friends and hot drinks.

this is the best place to be today. i am off to take photographs of snow, read , drink hot tea, relax, sled on cardboard, remember.

snow is winter's sunshine.

gerow, out.

21 November, 2008

Theoretical connection

this is an excerpt from a paper i wrote for a grad theory class i am attending this term. we were asked to write about two theorists that relate to the way our world view, personal interactions and inner feelings are shaped. i decided to post it here because i thought some day it would be good to look back on and re-write once i have a more concrete understanding of the theories i read. left to folders and desktop destinations, papers and essays are lost forever to me. i need secondary reminders, at the least.

Brian Gerow 11/20/08

Grad Theory, Professor Blazak

Thought Paper 6

As a young anarchist punk I read a piece by Bakunin, and thought it to be the gospel for my scope of the world. The state is the true and omnipresent evil of every society. Not capitalism, avarice, religion, spaghetti monsters or the oxford comma, but the government that decides the fate of existence for them all. I next moved on to Kropotkin, whose theories of Anarcho-Communism were much more sensible and necessitated less violence. Now in my ripe old age, I tend to see the world through a much more pluralistic looking glass. The "evils" of the world, not as capitalism, the state or religion but all of these and myriad more. Furthermore, the construction of what is popularly believed to be "evil" is often subjectively created as such for the gain of some power structure. The world as a complex corpulent bladder of fluidity, that cannot be named and pinpointed with one specific origin or destination.

In his piece titled, ”On Authority”, Friedrich Engels dispelled many of the unidirectional ideas of anarchist theorists who wrote in his day. He explained that with the way societies have come to depend on larger scale forms of production, authority is inherent, and can not simply be abolished. “We have seen, besides, that the material conditions of production and circulation inevitably develop with large scale industry and large scale agriculture and increasingly tend to enlarge the scope of this authority.” (Tucker p.732) Simply stated, as populations grown, so grow the demands of production, and the industries that produce. These larger industries require a minimum level of authority to exist. Engels gave an example of a ship on the ocean with a full crew. When gale force winds whip through the sails and the ship is in danger of sinking, the crew of hundreds instantly looks to the guidance of very few skilled authority figures for a plan of action. This may be a slightly extreme example of necessary authority, but Engels was dealing with some fairly extreme folks. This same genre of scare tactic is used today to legitimate and bolster authority within the United States government. After the attacks on the World Trade Center in Manhattan, the pulse of the U.S. population was set to a “terrorist alert system” that told citizens what color their perceived threat was related to for that day. This alert, and the event that preceded it, created a loyalty (read nationalism and xenophobia) to the authority in the U.S. that had not been seen for quite some time. Regarding population growth, authority and social needs, the theories of Friedrich Engels and several similar social theorists are very similar to the way I view the world today.

On a more micro level, no one other than Michael Foucault can better explain the way I feel about the concept of power in the world and in my own inner struggles. Foucault describes power as a truly fluid and necessarily ubiquitous phenomena in the world. In “Power as Knowledge” he wrote, “Power is everywhere, not because it embraces everything, but because it comes from everywhere. And ‘Power’, in so far as it is permanent, repetitious, inert, and self reproducing, is simply the overall effect that emerges from all these mobilities, the concatenation that rests on each of them and seeks to arrest their movement.” (Lemert p. 466) Foucault describes power as a field of relations that join at a conflict, or the name we attribute to a “complex strategical situation” in society. I try to look at issues of conflict in my personal life through a scope similar to this, however difficult it is to see through some days.

For example, my relationship with my ex-partner and our daughter has become a writhing ball of confusion in the last year. It is easiest to deal with every interaction with my ex-partner on face value, and have every argument that comes up because we both want the power position regarding how our daughter is raised. To pull away from the situation and look at the complexity of the conflict creates a whole different picture of what is going on. We, the presumed holders of power, have expectations put upon us from all different angles of society that are influencing our conflict. Our peers, parents, social norms and values, ideas about how we were raises, expectations for the future, and endless other factors (agents of control) are creating this conflict. There is no one simple place to point a finger and blame a party for their ideas or actions in this or any other conflict, because the real culprit is everything. From here it is necessary to look at all of the origins of the conflict, and with all parties involved in the struggle, determine which are more valid to the outcome or “resolution” than others. That all sounds a lot more simple than it is in practice. That is why I love social theory! It can make sense of things that make no sense at all!

from here i will go on to write about Jurgen Habermas' theories of communication and the boundaries to conflict resolution that are created by our gendered bias verbiage. recall, "pure communication".

03 November, 2008

uneven seams


i am grading papers at school this afternoon, and reading student's ideas of what is socially acceptable and what is taboo. they are evaluating these social norms per the formal and informal sanctions attached to them. relatively basic intro to sociology business.

reading all of the personal accounts folks responded with makes me think of something that is troubling me today. i have given in to an informal social norm on this same day of the year for the past eleven. i don't talk about people who have died and how i feel/felt about them. clearly this norm exists for the preservation of positive, up-lifting thought. its sanctions are bolstered by the ever popular "debbie downer" stigma. today, for a brief moment, despite my fleeting judgement, i opt to disregard this norm.

my sister, Becky Denice Gerow, died in a car accident on this day in 1997. every year i try to write something to her, but i thought this year i would make it public (no clear reason why). i love my sister very much. she is a giant part of the whole that made me who i am today. we had just begun to tear down our sibling relationship limitations and become friends the year before she died. i think about Becky every day, and often tell her things about my life. this is an odd experience for me, as it is likely the only spiritual activity in my life. i have no real spiritual beliefs to speak of, but i recognize that this is not entirely an action existing in our physical world. i am not going to give the details here, as anyone who knew her already knows their version and everyone else would likely not benefit from mine. i simply want to make mention that this is a traditionally odd/tough day in the midst of our lovely fall, and i suppose i chose to make it public knowledge because i feel that others have "traditionally odd days" as well. i want to say more, but am going to post this before that urge to erase it takes charge.

15 October, 2008

another one bights the dust


well that was easy. i went into work this morning and told my boss that I had been offered a teacher's assistant position at psu, and he simply said congratulations! i then had an exit interview at 9am and was out of there a half an hour later.

i will be working for two professors in the sociology department. Margret Everett is a recent arrival to to the soc department, she has taught at psu in the anthropology department foe the past 12 years. her focus is health inequalities in southern Mexico and several regions in South America. the other professor i will be working with is Joshua Bass. his main fields of study are centered around globalization and people of minority status. i am super stoked to learn everything i can from these professors about research and teaching! i am also excited to be a part of an academic faculty that will help me get a better grasp on my own research endeavors. today is a good day!

13 October, 2008

eavesdropping (this prose is in no way related to my previous post, but to a conversation earlier this afternoon)

she found out while sitting cozy on the couch with her favorite weekly news rag.
her daughter was fast asleep, and husband off on a frantic book signing tour.
she chose to take the first night alone. the rest of her life would be with their worries.
the cork came easily from that dusted bottle of whine. they had received it as a gift on their wedding day.
the following morning she flexed out a bit of urgency and relayed the life altering message.
amazed she was that mere words could remove the pyramids from their resting place.
desert birds of prey circled over the conversation in with parched pallets.
for the next three years they all prepared for the cancer to win.
she read coming-of-age stories to her daughter each night for an hour.
they were prepared.
at age fourteen, her daughter came-of-age.
she is doing very, very, very well.
her husband tells of their last agreement to one another,
while taking with strangers in well lit cafes.
those were the best three years of either of their lives.

10 October, 2008

passed present

i write with some incredibly horrible news today. one of my favorite professors, and a person who was a great inspiration to my future has died recently. Dr. Heather Hartley was taking some time off from her busy schedule of teaching and research this past term, due to a worsening illness. in class this thursday one of my other professors announced that she had committed suicide over the past weekend.
this is a great loss to her five year old daughter, the massive community of people who look up to her, and the rest of the world that will miss out on the fruits of her fabulous research (which included the implementation of female viagra!).
you will be greatly missed Dr. Hartley!

06 October, 2008

if this is not an inspiring quote, you may want to check your pulse!

"when it is genuine, when it is born of the need to speak, no one can stop the human voice.
when denied a mouth it speaks with the hands or the eyes, or the pores, or anything at all.
because every single one of us has something to say to the others, something that deserves to be celebrated or forgiven by others."
Eduardo Galeano, "Celebration of the Human Voice"

paul farmer is the bee's knees!

classes have begun, thus my writing here will likely be sporadic, quick as well as brief. i just wanted to make note of a book i am now reading that is likely the most well written and ordered academic works i have ever had the pleasure to intake. it is titled "pathologies of power: health, human rights, and the new war on the poor" by paul farmer. it is an eloquent piece of art which also serves as an incredible resource for current anthropological educating. enjoy!

28 September, 2008

across the street

so it has pointed in a fall-erly direction. by it i mean the earth, and by fall i mean the calming scent of cooler weather and warmer clothing when you remove it from its place on the annual shelf. for the past four years it has been a staunch reminder that school is back in session, and it is time to "come on feel the noise".
cyclocross race season is in full swing, and my ribs have their own fancy little story they could tell about that scenario. i went down hard last week on some cross walk lines after a light rain, and yesterday at a race my ribs were on fire. it's the rib on the upper right side of my torso that ache, so as you can imagine this is making carrying my bike quite the chore.
and now, despite my better judgment, i am off t another race. just wanted to log what the hell was going on before classes begin and i have no time to write for fun.

16 September, 2008

left and leaving

please check out this short film. it is an interesting and nuanced take on an over written theme. is also is folowed by a beautiful weakerthans song, if you hadn't guessed.

just cram this into your browser:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hhKuMBkTin8&feature=related

belly ache

oh my goodness am i sick! myself and five of my team mates came down with a horrible virus after the Pain on the Peak race this weekend. one of these team mates,who is a nurse, did some research and found that we had all contracted the nora virus from penelope.

Norovirus (was "Norwalk-like viruses"), an RNA virus of the Caliciviridae taxonomic family, causes approximately 90% of epidemic non-bacterial outbreaks of gastroenteritis around the world,[2][3] and is responsible for 50% of all foodborne outbreaks of gastroenteritis in the US. Norovirus affects people of all ages. The viruses are transmitted by faecally contaminated food or water and by person-to-person contact.
After infection, immunity to norovirus is usually incomplete and temporary. There is an inherited predisposition to infection and people whose blood type can be detected in their saliva are more often infected.
Outbreaks of norovirus disease often occur in closed or semi-closed communities, such as long-term care facilities, hospitals, prisons, dormitories, and cruise ships where once the virus has been introduced, the infection spreads very rapidly by either person-to-person transmission or through contaminated food. Many norovirus outbreaks have been traced to food that was handled by one infected person.
Norovirus is rapidly killed by chlorine-based disinfectants, but because the virus particle does not have a lipid envelope, it is less susceptible to alcohols and detergents.

Penelope had been sick a few days before, and we all played with her a good amount at the race this weekend. it was a great time away from the city, and a super fun course, but this stomach pain is not worth it. i am going back to sleep!

08 September, 2008

landmarks (not only for finding your way)


miss Peneope Beatrice turned fifteen months of age yesterday! she is walking forward and aft, and has begun not to notice so much. that's right, she has been waking for roughly a month now and has already begun the disconnect from consciously recognizing her foot motion. she can now do several things while she walks, without falter.

she also enjoys dancing and rocking back and forth while she laughs. this weekend while spending time with her grandmother, she rocked so far forward while chuckling that she jacked her forehead on a wooden letter-bock and now has a perfectly placed bruise on her dome.


we went to a dog park this weekend and Penelope Beatrice went mad "woofing" at all the k9. she absolutely adores dogs, and communicating with them. at the park, we also played on a swing and slid on the slide. she was so excited about the slide that she began climbing up it from the bottom. awesome weekend baby date!

31 August, 2008

rose & thistle

small glass,
sugar,
citrus,
liquor,
ignition,
she said it was the first hot drink of the season,
apologizing profusely as i was, it warmed my belly well,
and slow to consume it, for the bottom means a staggering wait for the six months pissing rains to end,
the clear shown table though holds another cold dark fit,
she could not see in my tired face, the fear growing for the appearance of clean wood grain,
too many others,
long last the reasons for long faces,
glasses,
a smile,
money changing more than hands,
expectations,
air scented a trailer home's perfume,
too much to remember in one sunday,
without the gloss of oak bar room snare, her visage read equivalent,
a brilliant woman,
a couch,
some yarn,
a circular saw,
the memory of deceased k9,
neither wanting to admit the growing taste, tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches,
drink gently,
relax as long as you like,
rest a weary sense of longing to release this annual letdown,
a feeling a kind to the first nail through such tender groomed modern feet,
this is why we love it

19 August, 2008

homage

"thanks to t.v. and the convenience of t.v., you can only be one of two kinds of human beings, either liberal or conservative".
kurt vonegut "cold turkey" may 10th 2004

17 August, 2008

a- “without”, and nomos “law”

there exists a sea of words that are claimed by the scientific realm we agree to call sociology. many of these terms could belong to any other field of science, but when a scientist from one sect gets a hold of them they create the appearance of ownership, in some right.

one of these terms that remains in a most heated dispute is "anomie", which basically means normlessness or lacking a common idea. every social theorist who uses this term has a slightly unique interpretation of its meaning, but the one directly associated with normlessness is Emile Durkheim. Emile was a structuralist, which explains why theorists from other perspectives would have different interpretations. norms are unspoken social rules that are understood by the vast majority of inhabitants of a society. examples of these would be; keeping a low tone in fine dining establishments, not scoffing when asked for change, smiling at children and elderly, and so forth. norms can run much deeper as well. there are norms attached to every role we play in society, from the way doctors placate patients, bikers wear black and look angry, police officers and clergy pretend to have compassion, sixteen year old anarchist kids all have the same idea of how to be different from everyone else, mail carriers unquestioningly wear shorts in the winter months, and the list could continue for every sub-segment of the human population. these are things that are expected of a person because of the role they choose to or are forced to play in the world. these are not the most relevant examples, but they are also not the point of this particular diatribe.

the point is that i am experiencing some degree of anomie today. or for two days. perhaps it has been a few fortnights. feels like years. i recall being thirteen once, and it may have begun then. it's relatively overt lately. an awful lot is changing, primarily for the good, for me as a person with many roles (person twenty-seven years of age, single father, european american, male-ish, grad student, agnostic, cyclist, vegetarian, serial drinking, egalitarian, east coast sales representative, non-cigarette-smoking, professor wanna-be, poetry lover, bass player, sexually confused, socially awkward and on...) to attend to. this week i moved out of the house my good friend emily kate olson and i brought our daughter home to fourteen months ago. i have a job that bores me to death, but provides healthcare for penelope beatrice and me. my graduate program begins in about a month and i am not sure how i am going to afford it, as the funding was nearly dry by the time i was admitted.
the vein of all this confusion is that i don't have any idea what to expect of myself, or what is expected of me right now. it may be that there are a few too many major changes to deal with at one sitting, as that is definitely the first thought.

i reckon that i am honestly saying that if you (i think only one of my fans still reads this rag) see me any time soon, and i seem to be a bit lost, i likely am. you should hug me and invite me to tea. another symptom of this anomie is that you get insecure and may come off a touch defensive about being touched. the truth of the matter is that touch is all i want right now. some human contact that is genuine in some way at all. must be insecure if i am alerting my needs in a forum no one will ever see. huh?
so now that i have obligated you, be sure to make that genuine, eh? i kid. i realize now that this sounds a lot like i am depressed, but i don't think that is the case at all this time. just incredibly lost like never before, and a little frightened. i hear we need that every now and again.

01 August, 2008

snake juice

off to bend, oregon this weekend for a full weekend of bike racing goodness at the "high desert omnium". it's been too long since i have spent a weekend outside the bubble that is Portland. i am looking forward to some r&r in the sweet clean desert air, when not racing. time to finish some book reading that has been on hold. yeah!

18 July, 2008

Happy Birthday Nelson Mandela!!!

"Nelson Mandela, the man credited with ending apartheid in South Africa, has marked his 90th birthday by calling for the rich to do more for the poor." (bbc.co.uk)

14 July, 2008

not only on the moon!

penelope beatrice walked her way across the filthy kitchen floor this evening! seven steps in all, for a lifetime achievement award well awaited! it's true, my kid is a rockstar!

12 July, 2008

nothing was broken

i went out last night with some of my bike team mates, and had the most ridiculously good time! we drank until we could no longer hold a drink well enough to continue, and ended it all at my house where we sat in a circle and shared some odd malt beverage as others might share a pipe. in the morning, three of us woke up at my place and sauntered out into the daylight for breakfast at hungry tiger too. it has made for one amazing weekend! oh, and we each smoked a cigarette which was a hilarious sight because none of us have smoked in years and we were coughing like mad.

i have recently been reminded that when i work forty plus hours a week, the quality of time off is far more important than it would otherwise be. i have to wait five days to have this much time again, and i want it to be as well spent as possible.

there is no real point to this blog, i just wanted to remember that i am thankful for good friends and a good time spent in the limited space i have. oh, and work is for suckers!

06 July, 2008

omaha, nebraska

maria taylor's show at the doug fir last night was nothing short of incredible. maria played drums in the second opening act, and followed with a long eloquent set riddled with her intelligent banter and wit. i believe maria taylor to have the most amazing voice in music today, and anyone who has not had a chance to check out her new ep should do so. her songs have grown more eclectic, as has the lineup of her band.
thanks omaha!

04 July, 2008

not all too into cars, but right now all i want to do is drive across canada on a mission to find the islands of the eastern coast. road trip anyone? particularly someone i've never met or have not hung out with for a long while?