Happy Halloween

It's cloudy today and the scene in the Bird Park is completely different than it was yesterday when the Buddha Bird was the first to arrive. This morning the magpies made it here first, around 7:30, which is a bit late for them but it's cloudy. They didn't stay long enough to eat though. A couple of them got into a knock down roll in the dirt fist fight, or I guess I should say claw fight or claw, wing and beak fight. It was brutal. They made such a fuss they scared themselves off and everybody else when with them. Dummies. The lone magpie who comes about 8, after they are gone, will be happy for that. More goodies for him. I'm pretty sure he used to be the early bird, until the gang started tagging along. Hard to cover your tracks in the air. Now he comes back after the boobs takes off and I make a point of having a bit of birdie brunch waiting.

And what's up with pigeons? They must have radar eyes. I tucked some chicken scratch away in Old Guy Hills for the quail but the pigeons were all over it this morning, with the quail perched on the fence just watching them. Now I have to cut everybody off for a while, until the pigeons go back to their regular routine of stopping by for a cold tub and the few sunflower seeds the finches drop beneath the feeder. Ah the drama.

Happy Halloween. I strung lights last night. Looks pretty good, even if I do say so myself. The stage hogs at the Invisible Theatre, headed up by Uncle Monkey and Rat Woman of course, are agitated because I brought in outside talent to be the greeter this evening. Now everybody is miffed. They consider Halloween their gig, exclusively. It's not in their contract but tell them that. I hope they don't decide to pull some Halloween tricks on me.

Eternal Sunshine of the Buddha Bird

Buddha Bird came by today. First one in the Park this morning and had it all to herself. Great to see her again. I thought she was dead but in the magical world of the Bird Park, they live forever. As usual, she sat serenely on the feeder perch for at least 20 minutes before beginning breakfast.

In other news, yesterday's storm left that lovely leaf on my window and the San Carlos sailors set out this morning on another camping trip. This time they are headed north for 5 or 6 days looking for that ever illusive lonely lagoon in which to drop anchor. All in all, today is off to a good start. I hope yours is too. If not, remember you can start it over any time.

Drift, ruhf cut

This damn project is getting on my nerves. Today I got so frustrated that I was about ready to throw my synthesizer and mixer out into the street. It's so technical. I can't even figure out how to get the mic to run through the mixer. Arg! I know. RTFM! But it overwhelms me. A guy came over a while ago and set it up but didn't really show me how to do it myself. Later I detached the mic for a reading and now can't figure out how to plug the damn thing back into the system. I'm over it now, for the moment. I decided to keep it simple and just do something. I always feel better when I do something. It's the ADD and OCD, don't ya know?

So here's a beta version video. I made it this afternoon. It's one of two or three I haven't deleted since starting this project two weeks ago. I've got mixed feelings about posting it as it's very [ruhf] : having a coarse or uneven surface, as from projections, irregularities, or breaks; not smooth". Plus, it doesn't help that the dishwasher is roaring in the background. I was just dinking around on the keyboard with the camera on. I had no plans to use any of it but at one point I did the poem over the sound and it kinda worked or at least resembles what I'm working towards. So it goes. Unwrapped and unruly as it is, it's a marker on the way and I'm posting it.

The poem is called Drift. I wrote it couple of years ago. The accompaniment is improvised and, you guessed it, [ruhf]. Among other problems, the pace is lagged and faltering. Anyway, it's a moment in my afternoon I decided to share with you. If I wait until everything is perfect, I'll never do it. I hope you find something in it to enjoy but, whatever the case, please don't shoot the piano player.


Drift

03:08

Trip report and local woes

I wouldn't say they threw caution to the wind but M. Lee and friend got over the rough start at the beginning of their trip. It took a few days but after they got to San Carlos, got settled, got the boat moored safely in the harbor and talked things over, the chance to sail some beautiful lagoon inaccessible but by the sea proved too great to pass up. No surprise. They left on Thursday, so were out during the full moon. Must have been lovely. They are supposed to be back this afternoon so the alarm on my built-in worry clock is set to go off tomorrow morning if I don't hear from them but until then I shall wave off images of pirates, rough seas and unforeseeable circumstance.

As for me, I have been hard at work making and deleting videos. I am just not comfortable in front of the camera but am driven to make my peace with it. Who knows why but at this point, I'd be happy if I managed to read even one of my poems without seizing up. We shall see.

Lookin' good

I managed a quick shot before they took the stitches out of my hand the other day. It feels like there's a cardboard disc in the middle of my palm and a strap running horizontally across the middle of it. Scar tissue. Now it's up to me to exercise the hell out of my hand in order to break that down.

NaNo Portland news

I am still on the mailing lists of three regional NaNoWriMo forums from last year - SF/SAC , NV Elsewhere and Portland - and am vicariously enjoying the hubbub as November draws near. Perhaps I should get a life. Anyway, I know a couple of you Portlanders have decided to do the marathon this time and, in case you haven't joined your local NaNo group yet (do it), here's the kickoff news. From now on you guys are on your own. Got to keep my co-dependency in check. I highly recommend you get to know some of the local participants. Fellow writers. Expand your world. The first event is THIS Saturday.

October 27
*Kickoff Gathering* THIS saturday, 3-5pm
US Bank Room, Central Library, 801 SW 10th Ave
http://www.multcolib.org/agcy/cen.html
It will be a time for people new to NaNoWriMo and/or Portland to learn more about the wonderful craziness that is NaNoWriMo and the extreme fabulousness of our region. Returning folks can reconnect with those they haven't seen since last November. We'll all get energized and inspired for another incredible month of writing mania.

If you would like to bring a snack to share at the Kickoff, please do so.

October 31
*Halloween Midnight Write-in (east side)*
Fireside Coffee Lodge, 1223 SE Powell Blvd
http://firesidecoffeelodge.com
Get there some time before 12:00 am Nov 1 if you can't bear to wait any longer to start writing. The Fireside is open 24-hours so you can stay as long as you want. Please plan to spend at least $2.50 to support the Fireside. Electrical outlets and free wireless internet available. Thanks to Connie (Gostiee), who is also our regional ML for Script Frenzy, for organizing this event!

October 31
*Halloween Midnight Write-in (west side)*
Ava Roasteria, 4655 SW Hall Ave, Beaverton
http://www.avaroasteria.com/
Get there some time before 12:00 am Nov 1 if you can't bear to wait any longer to start writing. Ava Roasteria is open 24-hours so you can stay as long as you want. Please plan to spend at least $2.50 to support the cafe. Electrical outlets and free wireless internet available. ML Stephen is organizing this event.

November 1
*Downtown Write-in*, 5-7pm
Pioneer Place Mall food court
ML Heather is organizing this event

Ps. If you do nothing else, at least check out the Fireside Coffee Lodge. This is where the Halloween Midnight Write-in is taking place. It's open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Good to know when the midnight writing frenzy is upon you.

Rainbows and bitter sweet endings

We can smell smoke from the California fires all the way up here in Northern Nevada. Which got me to thinking. At it's best, life is bitter sweet but lately with all the fires, wars, floods, famine, genocide and idiot, shit-for-brains leaders ransacking the world at fever pitch, the balance has decidedly morphed bitter so it's time to break out the violins and fiddle up a rainbow. So... grab a refill, kick back and let National Geographic do just that.


Bitter sweet
Elephants Mourning

1:04



Sweet bitter sweet
Wild Horses Kick Butt

2:22


Note: You crusty old neocons could learn something from this horse who knows more about the teachings of Sun Tzu in one hoof than all of you put together. A great warrior radiates strength. He doesn't have to fight to the death. ~ Art of War.

Daily flash

-Final draft-


I am a daily Huffpo reader. In fact I visit Arianna's site and other political blogs through the day and rant a lot about the subject here but before Bush, I wasn't much into politics. Always figured it only scratched the surface. I thought, and still do, that we have to go deeper for solutions. I didn't march for peace or women or civil rights, not that I don't believe in all that. Instead, I sought the answers through poetry, art, music, cultivating spiritual awareness and a hell of lot of booze and dope, believing that changes must occur at a subterranean level first if they are to survive the forces of ignorance and apathy later. I've since given up the chemical path to enlightenment but still believe in the rest. On the other hand, perhaps because of people like me who don't want to be drawn away from our personal pursuits, our county is sinking in the ocean of shit and our shit-for-brains president and pirate crew are looting not only America in broad daylight, but the world, as we watch, slack-jawed. I suppose it's only history repeating itself, but damn. This time I thought it was going to be different.

These days I am having one of those out of body experiences you read about, where the observer is the observed. I feel like a gawker at a car wreck. I am watching America implode, mesmerized by the gore, detached, a bystander uninvolved in the outcome. As though it has nothing to do with me. As though my life will continue unaffected by what happens to the bleeding survivor trapped in the twisted metal. So what if our country has been hijacked from within? As though all I have to do is shop and pay my bills with a credit card and everything will turn out okay in the end. Because, after all, I am a good person.

I wax and wane in this hypnotic trance but, until now, I still trusted that if enough of us spoke out together we would not only wake ourselves up, we could abort this hostile take over of America but something Arianna posted this morning challenged that assumption.

"So, it can no longer be denied: the right wing lunatics are running the Republican asylum."

"No longer be denied? No LONGER?"

Just now Arianna, one of the enlightened ones, is coming to this? The Republican party is a right wing lunatic organization. Look at their actions. Actions speak louder than sound bites. If Arianna is just now seeing this then, not only is the Republican party a band of right wing lunatics, we are more compliant and sunk deeper in the morass than I had ever dare imagine.

We can count on one thing. The world sees us for what we are, a blood-thirsty mob of crippled bullies satisfied to talk about change as long as nothing changes. Blah blah blah. Lately, I've been trying to get out of this mental dance-o-death. Concentrate on poetry, puppets, music. Friends, sick of my rants, have been encouraging me. I don't know. Seems there is no going back. And no way forward.

Tomorrow has finally arrived

Uncle Monkey welcomes you.