Monkey Jogs!

This is my first attempt at an apron. I didn't use a ruler, a cutting board or any prior knowledge of how to sew what so ever (besides 7th grade home ec, where Jen and I built a "house" that we could skip classes and play fort in . . . )

I got these fabrics from three different places: the navy angels hugging (the body), the pin stripe faded jade (the bottom) and the weird pocket flannel are all from a salvation army in Livingston, Montana. The pretty lace for the neck & frill on the pocket and the rust colored zipper are from Mark in Butte, Montana, who let me take as much stuff as I could fit in a bag (or two? plus shoes that turn into ROLLERSKATES!) for ONE DOLLAR. The tie is from Goodwill Thrift in MisSOULa, Montana. Pretty rad mix of things, if you ask me.

The scissors used are old sorta' rusty shears - they reminded me of the scissors my mom used to use, but with a griddle feel to 'em. Bob sold me the sewing machine. I almost got a sewing machine from a disgruntled ex-wife who wanted to give me her ex-mother-in-law's sweet machine for $35 so she could buy her son Benjamin popsicles since he just got his tonsils out. When I went to meet her, I bought him a box of popsicles just because I was so thankful. She bailed on me, so alls I got was a box of popsicles... and a brand NEW machine named Audrey!

Anyone wanna buy an apron? I am selling them for 55 bucks a pop! Call now with your color choice and any and all suggestions on how to sew.

Wheel of Thwarted Ambition

People approach us as we are unloading the formidable hunk of metal from Chip's crane: "What is this for? What's going to happen?"

It's still daylight. Anton Viditz-Ward, a local Telluride welder and friend, has built spinning metal carriages of fire for four years now. This particular wheel was seen by fellow Burners on the 2008 playa. They decided to rent the wheel for the rehearsal dinner for their wedding. Descending from Mountain Village on the Gondola, the wedding party would be surprised to see a sparking ring of fire.

The newlyweds-to-be





Due to the last minute rental of the Wheel of Thwarted Ambition, Anton called upon his crew of friends, or Team Fuck Yeah, to get things spinning.



Most of the crew suited up in orange jumpsuits, goggles and helmets; the crowd that the event inevitably drew was fully aware of who was in charge:









Bri and I got to turn the crank shaft first:






This year, Anton has built a double wheel that spins in opposite directions and the theme for our Burning Man camp is Palindromes. Our motto is one of the oldest palindromes known, a latin phrase that was used to describe the behavior of moths: In girum imus nocte et consumimur igni. It translates to “we go wandering at night and are consumed by fire." Seems pretty appropriate . . .

If anyone wants a closer look at any of Anton's metal projects, come to the next mine party! David Byrne, Summer 2012!




Wheelside


Sparking Stars


Photos courtesy of Merrick Chase - - - check him out!

LOOK SEE

I took a few photos on that dreaded I-80 drive from Jackson WY to Boulder CO. About all Eastern Wyoming has to offer are snippets of giggles from the odd photographs it provides.

Moabyness

I'm sitting at Arches Book Store in Moab, Utah - one of my favorite bookstores in the nation... second to Powell's in Portland, OR.

Someone left me two quarters. A 1912 New Mexico Land of Enchantment and 1896 Utah Crossroads of the West.

I agree that Utah is the Crossroads of the West, mostly because of the drive I just made. From Telluride, 145 West to 90 West takes you through Norwood, Naturita, Bedrock and Paradox, Colorado. Towering red cliffs contrasted with jade pines and the dusty yellow valley floor . . . it's hard to keep your eye out for the free ranch cows wandering, traversing the roads with inattentive eyes.


cows on the road


paradox valley


paradox valley aussi


pretty rocks

Just as I was winding up toward the margin of my favorite state in the US, I thought about why I love Colorado so much.

I've been spending so much time in southwest Colorado lately - Telluride to be exact. This week alone, I hiked twice, climbed a VIA ferrata route, went to an EMS gathering with free Mojitos and sushi, played frisbee golf, drank a shot of whiskey in the middle of main street in the middle of the day, watched a play about squids, octopus and schools of fish, get 160 million in Harley Pinball, finished my paperwork ( : o ! ) and soaked naked in a hot tub at a mansion in the mountains. Hmmm . . . I also managed to bang my camera up against the rock to somewhat screw it up - so I'll have to get a new lens before I continue photographing things.

Here's some:

MY NEW BIKE!


kona!


FROM RIDGEWAY TO TELLURIDE - MOON AND THE MOUNTAINS


the land Ralph Lauren owns

VIA FERRATA PHOTOS!


us at the top... timer-shot



so scary!



Brian thru my broken lens

BRAINARD LAKE & the NEW WESTY!



the westy's first vista after camping at brainard lake...



westy! (soon to be named... when appropriate)

Off to Bozeman, Montana for the Sweetpea Art Festival ! ! ! I've never been to Montana - I hope to see lots of horses and rivers.

We pine for higher ceilings...

The Submarines- You, Me, and Bourgeoisie
Video sent by NettwerkMusic

After California, I finagled my way back to Telluride about 8 hours ahead of schedule. My flights were set to leave at 2:30 PM and then 9:30 PM from Denver to Durango, which wouldn't put me into the majestic canyon until about midnight. I wasn't having that. I arrived at the San Francisco airport at 4:45 am to attempt stand-by for the 6:00 am flight. The line for luggage was horrendous and it sounded to me that EVERYBODY around me wanted to get to Denver and be on that exact flight. I was patient and kind with all the attendants and the guy behind the counter looked like he appreciated it. He bumped me to the top of the list, which was about 4th out of 26 people.

I watched my name slip down the list to 19th, as people were added. I didn't understand. I went to the counter and tried my patience and politeness trick again. This lady was not having it. She told me "yes, your name would move down as people were added." I struggled to not say anything back and sat back down. Watching the screen, I saw that United Plus members had more umph on the scale, so I waiting until angry lady was busy and asked the other woman if being a mileage plus member would bump me up on the list. She said "why yes it does." So I gave her my membership number and vavoom! I was back up at number 6 on the stand-by list. Now, this didn't mean anything, really . . . I had to wish that 6 people slept in and couldn't get through the baggage madness in time to get on their Denver flight. Everybody boarded the plane and the crowd had emptied out around me. It wasn't looking so hot. Angry lady called my name and as I walked up to her, she said "you're very lucky" as if she had wished I missed the plane.

If I hadn't gotten on this plane, I would have missed the connecting flight to Durango and still would have arrived in Telluride around midnight, and ALSO spent the entire day in airports. Yeah for that not happening.

Jackie was in Telluride waiting patiently with our friend from high school Jay and his pup Daizy. We rolled in around 4 pm, just in time to begin setting up tents and claim a sweet vendor camping sitche for Kim's van. We parked it nose in on this camper, nestled amongst the bushes and so very close to the watering spigot. We met the camper men. Their names were Brian Merrick and Bart. Brian owns the camper, but also lives in Telluride, so they set it up more for a party zone at the venue. All these guys had backstage passes even though they barely had to lift a finger's work during the festival. Fun!

Jackie and I didn't get many pictures . . . so sad. But we did see David Byrne in the most exciting mind-space and we met Conor Oberst. Other than that, the entire event was a fantastically tragic time to say goodbye to. You ride the high of these amazing festivals and people speak of the withdrawal they go through after it's all over. I like the light these moments shed on my perspective. I am still riding that high - perhaps it is because I am still in Telluride and still hanging out with the people I was so fortunate to meet that weekend.

love can free us from all excess - from our deepest debts - 'cause when our hearts are full we need much less

Beirut - 'Nantes'

Beirut - 'Nantes'
Video sent by era_ant

from Blogotheque

I am a little embarrassed that June was a month unwritten. Yet, as Nickel Creek says "others have excuses, I have my reasons why."

June, like the many months that preceded it and haven't gained recognition here in my virtual world, was plump with fun and loveliness. It began where my travels and adventures began last summer: Telluride Jazz Festival. A fellow friend, Greg, flew into Denver to accompany me on the drive with a few golden nugget pit stops along the way: Valley View Hots Springs, The Great Sand Dunes and then Telluride, Colorado. The weather called for rain rain and a little bit more of some more rain, but we actually lucked out - it just sprinkled a bit at the hot springs (which is my favorite hotspringweather) and cleared up for us to hike a 75 degree day at the dunes. We even got about 60% clarity in Telluride . . . freeeeezing nights.


This is greg and I. On the side of the road somewhere near Villa Grove. We had fun.


Greg looking up at the Dune we're going to climb.


I didn't even try to photo-capture the beauty of the Dunes... it's a visual memory that sits in my head. Go see it yourself . . . seriously, go.


... when the Springtime night chill sets in on Telluride, it's best to find someone who pays heating bills to shack up with. We found the Nugget Theatre to watch Star Trek at. It was awesome and warm.


This little Telluride girl just graduated from kindergarten and this was her graduation balloon that she held so high and proud.


A few free box friends that we found . . . my panda ORI was subsequently stolen in Santa Rosa by a little boy who didn't realize ORI was my watch-panda. I hope he's enjoying him. I didn't even have time to become attached to him. . .


While I was in Telluride, Autumn called with a request that I fly out to California to fill in for the Health and Harmony Festival. I have become a bit sick of flying, but yes is a game I like to participate in. So off to Santa Rosa for the second weekend in June!

The line up for the festival was unbelievable. Act after act, I was loving California and all the endorphins it was bringing to my ears and head. One way to put it... you couldn't tear the smile off my face. I had two lovely neighbors, Robert and Jodi, and a great view of the stage from my booth. Michael Franti, Cake, The Duhks, India Arie, Balkan Beat Box, Matisyahu, Animal Liberation Orchestra... mmmm... and people all around glad to be alive and dancing.


My neighbor Jodi! Check her out - she makes sweet stuff!!!


i hoop.


I was feeling the love . . .


- - and Daniel Pinchbeck spoke in the dome behind my booth, so I got to steal away for half an hour and watch him speak about the book greg and I are reading: 2012. This guy and many of the people seated in the dome have lots of information that is really just starting to seep into our consciousness. I was really glad to be a part of it.



Since the first 10 minutes was basically a reiteration of the content I had already been reading in his book, I let myself get distracted by this mini-dagny that was hanging out with a guy I had met earlier. Cute cute.






... after H & H, I came back to Telluride and that is where I am now. I will fill in the blanks in the morning, as I am too tired to do anything else worthwhile on this post.

See you tomorrow! Nantes :)

Do sensors censor us or just sense when we're evading stop signals?

I ask where he grew up. He says California. He says he'll leave as soon as he gets the chance. He looks about 19 years old. Maybe 20. Could be 17. When I ask where, he says anywhere that is not the United States. I ask what is wrong with the United States. He says there are too many laws, too much censorship. I ask him where else he has been, thinking he will justify his answer with his experience with foreign lands being less oppressive. He says Florida, Hawaii (twice), Cancun and... Mexico. He is answering with candid seriousness. I tell him that I travel a lot and there are parts of the United States that aren't so bad. I ask him what kind of laws are oppressive. He says California has cameras everywhere and that they take your picture when you run a red light. He says he has a device on his license plate that blurs the picture. He proceeds to explain that the guys who put up those cameras aren't even cops, that they put them there and then sit around all day waiting, watching. He clarifies that as soon as you run that red light, they snap a picture of you. My mind begins to drift. I decide that if this really were the case, if the cameras weren't just sensor-driven, these guys might be called something like Sensor-Breaker Detectors. Or SBD's for short. Then guys like the kid who's driving me to the airport in his blurry jeep would nickname them Son of a Bitch Dudes who watch over and me and make sure I don't run red lights. I begin to wonder if Blurry Jeep kid has sensors mixed up with censors. I wonder if the SBD's internally censure us after a while for our lack of respect for others' safety.

I ask him how he is censored. He says there are too many ways to explain. I ask for one. He thinks a minute and then admits that he cannot think of one at the moment. I change the subject because I begin to feel as if I am accusing him of something, even though I was really just curious where he grew up. I say I have never been this early to the airport. He asks what I am going to do with 4 hours. I begin to list things... read, write, stare into no where. I tell him I have a hard time getting bored, so I don't mind the waiting. He asks what I like to read. I tell him short stories, funny ones. I ask him what kind of books he likes to read. He says he's never finished a book. He says he never really got into it because in school, his teachers would always make him read things he didn't want to read. I tell him when I am an English teacher, I won't force kids to read things they won't like. He says that'd be cool.

When we get to the airport, he asks me what airline I am flying on. Of course, I don't know, because sometimes I am not completely primed with my travel information, so I pull out my laptop. Delta. I go up to the Delta counter and they are looking at me like a disoriented owl. They ask me what I want. I think to myself, isn't it pretty obvious? I tell them I'd like to check in. They tell me there are no more flights tonight. It hits me that maybe I am not flying out of Oakland. There are about eighty airports in the vicinity of San Francisco. I take out my laptop again and right above Delta, it tells me SFO. I guess it was a good thing I left 5 hours early.

Along my BART ride, I think about my ride to the airport. I wonder if this kid will ever give America a chance. I wonder if he'll ever feel the need to read a book, all the way through. I wonder if I judged him for the things he said, but realize I didn't really. I liked him. I liked how he had a tenacity, a passion in life, even if it was against something. I think having passion, even if misdirected, is better than being apathetic. I wonder at what moment in his life will that passion be challenged and he'll have to decide to deviate or alleviate it. I hope he just redirects it and doesn't let it dwindle into indifference. This may sound a bit extreme, but I wonder if he had only had a better english teacher . . .

What do you do when you pull the X Q Z from the Scrabble bag?

Plans shift. It's been said to "Expect the Unexpected." To me, this is an apparent paradox, because if you expect the unexpected, then isn't it then expected? Well, what I gather from such a proverb is this advice: be open to shifts. Anyone who knows me knows my middle name should be shift. I PUT ON THE TEMPORARY CAPS LOCK EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE. and sometimes i never touch it. I live for the shift. I live in shift. But I'm not shifty - I am candid and frank. Just call me Candid Frank. Or I guess I'd be Candid Shift Frank, since Shift is my middle name.

... I digress - I was on my way to Chico, CA on Thursday to do some hiking, reading, writing, relaxing and catching up with my friend Malia. On my way, I gave her a call only to find she was in Sacramento with her friend from high school, Adelle. My route took me right through Sac, so I decided to take a pit stop. We ended up chatting on the back porch with wine and sunshine, going out for delicious deep dish pizza and playing a tenacious game of Scrabble before sleeps. Chico got put on hold.

I am sure anyone who finds interest in sitting around a square board made out of tan, salmon pink, baby blue and (the ultimate) red squares, placing a mixture of their 7 wooden squares in vertical or horizontal patterns, so as to maximize points, knows the importance of X Q & Z.

During this Sacramento game of Scrabble, I happened to pull all three of these letters throughout the game - two in the first scoop! And like any rusty scrabbler who hasn't practiced, played or read the dictionary lately, I whined and moaned that I wasn't getting the proper proportion of vowels to consonants. About 3/4's of the way through the game, I inquired about the score. Bookkeeper Malia informed me that I was in the lead- a hefty dozen points ahead of her (she grew up in Indiana... she's goood.) After the game was over, and I won, I thought about what it means to pull those three valuable yet vexatious letters.

It's really about luck of the draw in getting those letters. But I've seen people MacGyver their way to number one out of the scrabble pack with slim pickins of one-point letters (such persons go by the pseudonyms of 'Mom' and 'Maloeuia'). Life really is about taking what you are given and making the best out of it. When you reach into that Stygian Scrabble bag, you have no way of knowing what to expect. You, therefore, can truly expect the unexpected.

Although I did come out on top with the high-dollar letters I was given, it's not easy to place a Q without having a U.

Which reminds me of a poem I once read in a cartoon strip when I was little. I think it may be the only poem I've ever memorized. The cartoon was a little ant reading a poem about his favorite letter to a classroom full of other ants, who probably had other favorite letters. For instance, I found out last week that Rachel and I share the same favorite letter: g.

"If I could be a letter,
I would be a Q -
as letters go
it don't seem Q's
have all that much to do
Mostly they get used in words
for doctors and for ducks
(which may well be the only time
that Q's get any yucks.)

Q's are never all alone in anything they do
'cause everything you find a Q
it's followed by a U.

Privacy is not a thing
I've ever been too keen on.
I'd rather know
when I feel low
that I got U to lean on."

I don't know who wrote this brilliant masterpiece of a poem, but he obviously touched me. I'm in a lot of debt because of that ant's poem.

Anyway, do the best you can with whatever you grab outta' the Scrabble bag of life. Quit complaining about your vowel ratio.

Sidenote: all my hopes dreams and aspirations of my purpose in the Scrabble world were shattered that night when Adelle reminded me that I could never get a SCRABBLE with the word S-E-Q-U-O-I-A (7 letters and uses only ALL the vowels and an 'S'... only word lovers will really get why this would be so exciting for me) because Sequoia is a proper noun. No proper nouns allowed in Scrabble. How discriminatory. I am going to invent my own Scrabble game called Babble. The poets' version of Scrabble, where everything is allowed. All languages, slangs, nouns and names allowed. And maybe I won't use squares - I'll use triangles or something . . .

(One may notice how wonderfully fluid and easy to follow my brain has become since I stopped writing college essays. Right.)

Goodnight Oakland!

inter-coastal

Last week, while Rachel and I were wandering around San Francisco, Autumn called me to talk about the next leg of my trip. She gave me a few options: bum around the west coast for a week, then up to Portland. Or fly to NYC for the Yoga Journal Conference, then back to Portland and be all 'inter-coastal' about it.

When weighing these decisions in my head, I think of two things: What will be best for ATD? and How will it benefit me? Generally, whenever I am given these choices or asked if I can be here there then somewhere else, I just abide. The dude abides.

And I'd like to say it's because I am easy going or make the best of all situations ... while it may be a bit of these two, I think, in all honesty, it is more about my curiosity. I make the decision that will provide more adventure, more dislocation, more uncertainty. My curiosity overrides my apprehension like an overweight bully on the elementary school see-saw. As much as my mind wants to catch up with itself from time to time, it still wants to be stimulated and overwhelmed with the unfamiliar and what beauty that the not-yet-revealed has to unravel. Like Proust decided to do with Remembrance of Things Past, live first, then write. The writer is the arrangeur, but first, the manger, french for arrange and to eat, respectively. We arrange matters after we feed off of the world.

. . .

As I said, I do consider the company I work for first, because they are the wonderful women that provide me with the opportunity to travel around with beautiful flowing clothes and help women embrace loving the skin they live in. That's how I see what I do - and I am thankful every day that I am afforded the opportunity.

without the rules

Besides Arcata/Eureka's kick-ass radio station KHUM 'radio without the rules', (which made me want to stay at Patrick's Point in Trinidad, just so we could listen) Humboldt County has too much to offer for a mere 3 day trip.

Gigantic conifers with more tourist attractions than Disney World. Brown bears that amble down the road in front of my clearly audible, crappy rental car. Snail colonies. Lost rocks. Big Rivers. The Immense Pacific Ocean. Onomatopoetic waves. Sprawling, scrawling succulent communities. Banananut slug climbers. Rainforest hike/slides. Grey granular sand. Ampersand-shaped petrified wood. Wholly evil petrified wood. Dismantled skeleton petrified wood. Bullfrogs behind the beach campfire. And of course... buddies to hang in the rain with.

Rachel, Rachel and Luke decided about as last minute as possible that weather should never impede on a trip. The plan began as a shifty "Meet ya' in NorCal around Sunday night." Well, give three Alaksans a '70 VW van, shoddy directions and a negligible map of Portland, OR and they will easily double their travel time. They will also own the most Zach Morris, pre-historic of cellular technology.

But give a road warrior another night and morning alone and she'll easily meet a bear, see a few slugs, visit a hidden beach, hike for four hours in the Redwoods, drive under a tree and finally run across Marvin (said '70 VW bus above) in a Diner parking lot in Klamath California.

It was my first time meeting Rachel's friends Luke and Rachel. One of the first things Luke said out loud near me was something like "I think it is impossible to get bored." I wanted to walk up to his face and exclaim "Finally! Someone who thinks straight!" Here's a photo-slideshow of how Springtime weather in a Rain Forest doesn't have to ruin anyone's fun