Friday was spent traipsing around the grounds of the Forest Hills Cemetery after escaping from work early. The Cemetery has on display a number of contemporary art works - as part of a permanent exhibition, and also as part of a special seasonal exhibition of works based on the 4 elements. My shooting trip turned into more of an art scavenger hunt than a self-guided tour. By the end of 3 hours, I was soaked in sweat, dehydrated, but exhilirated. Got at least a few good shots on my Holga and SLR. Part of the problem was that the Cemetery had prepared 2 separate maps of the artworks, but neither of the maps overlapped, and one of the maps, only listed major streets and paths, so going back and forth between the 2 maps slowed the whole walking tour down, and also, I am just not very good with directions in general. The best pieces I saw were "Portals" by a Japanese artist - a rubber cast door hanging from the trees, and "Nightshirts", a sculpture of wire mesh placed around the trunks of various trees. Hard to describe, but worth seeing. The 4 elements closes today.. but some of the better contemporary works will remain on display.

Just returned from a short trip to Voluntown, CT with Kort and Catherine. Catherine's folks own a little house on the shores of Beach Pond. Pleasant retreat from the city - did laundry, watched movies, cooked Italian food, harvested vegetables from the garden, and helped Catherine on a home improvement project. Catherine's Dad has these hand-made wooden Xmas lawn ornaments - two 6 foot tall candy canes and a pink-faced Santa Claus (shorter than the candy canes). The lawn ornaments were made by her grandfather and it was a family tradition for the past 50 years to display these items on the lawn at Xmas time. Last year, Catherine's Dad inherited these items and wanted to put them up on the lawn in CT but refused to display them until the ornaments could get a fresh coat of paint. It was Catherine's unfortunate task to make this happen and it didn't, so she hasn't heard the end of it since. So we hauled out the candy canes from the basement and started work on this project. Got as far as completing the 2 bows on the candy canes before calling it a day. Also made handsewn codex wedding photo albums for our girlfriends who are each getting married next weekend.

I told Kort we should move to Alaska. Catherine says that she would come to.

I will say that the recent flood of students back to Boston has me wanting to avoid Boston as much as possible.

Enjoyed Mark L's report of the Mars viewing party in Gloucester and the comparison/taste test of Mars bars vs. Milky Way. I think the question of "what are we all afraid of anyways?" is a good and relevant one, and one that makes me tired too. Tired and sad but also sometimes hopeful.

Missed Mars last night. Ah, the elusive Mars. Thankfully, Mars moves damn slow, so even if it takes a while to get a hold of a telescope, I haven't missed the boat. Maybe next week.

Mars Mania! Events at the Harvard -Smithsonian Center, the B.U. Astronomy Department, and the Museum of Science.

Michael Chang has retired from tennis, 1 day after Pete Sampras's annoucement. So unfortunately, Chang's announcement was totally eclipsed by Sampras' retirement. I sometimes miss playing tennis. Yesterday, there was a game on the television at the FitCorp. I miss being out on the court and hitting things as hard as possible, but I don't miss those little pleated skirts. Jay Jennings has written a very nice op-ed article for the Times on "The Quiet American".

I just got an email from David Lukowski, one of the best and brightest up and coming painters around. Met David in Catherine P's alternative photo imaging class in Brookline last fall. Both lovely, lovely people. David and I have similar day jobs and similar issues. It is fun to commiserate with one who knows the score.

2 more classes to go and the teaching term will be over. Summer was much less pleasurable this time around due to these commitments - but what a learning experience! Looking forward to a hiatus.

Kort's going in to his Monbusho interview in about an hour. Good luck, bunny!

On the topic of dreams and dreaming... 2 nights ago, I dreamt that my book had come out and I was doing a reading at Wordsworth. I hadn't yet looked at the interior of the book until I was up at the podium reading. So I opened the book to find that all of the poems that I like to read were out of order and in these totally tiny and unreadable fonts anyway, and there I was struggling through the worst painful reading experience of my life. Aghhhh! Anxiety nightmare...

Any clear views of Mars from Gloucester yesterday? Would liked to have been there and seen the spread - how many red foods are there besides tomatoes? Hmmm... cherries, strawberries, bell peppers, mangos (sort of)...

I think something about taking blog quizzes reminds me a bit of reading Cosmo and Mademoiselle and various magazines - usually the quizzes in these mags are somewhat inane like take the test to see if he is Mr. Right, or are you a good friend, or how is your self-esteem but are still mindlessly fun. The quizzes that poets dream up are a whole lot more funnier and seemingly less psychological. Someone once gave me an obscure personality test where the answers were "you are a muffin" or "you are a horse". I never did get Barbara to explain what those answers meant. But apparently, I am a muffin. What the hell is a muffin anyways? Maybe it is like the difference between "nerds" and "jerks".

Nice to read on Catherine's site that Brian Teare is back in No Cal. Met Brian in New Hampshire very briefly and talked poetry and books. Brian's first collection will be out this Fall and will be totally amazing. Buy it!

Bubble tea test from Aimee's site.


Click here to take the test!


If you have never tried boba, or "bubble tea", I highly recommend going straight down to the Chinatown Eatery in downtown Boston on Beach Street and ordering a mango or watermelon drink. Lollicup in the Super 88 Market Complex in Allston also serves some decent variations, but if you're looking for the real thing - definitely Chinatown! My parents enjoy iced coffee with their boba, or red bean. I favor the fruity drinks.

Back in February, I read a piece on Master Sheng Yen in the NY Times. His order had been the recipient of an ancient Buddhist sculpture - basically the head of Akshobya Buddha which had been hacksawed off of the original body and smuggled out of China. Master Sheng Yen questioned the origins of this gift and experts traced the sculpture back to China where it was ultimately returned as an act of good will. See article...

As it turns out, Sheng Yen's order (which appears to be in the Ch'an/Zen tradition) is based in Peitou, Taiwan - perhaps worth further investigation in the near future...

Joel Sloman organizes his new book shelves according to the following system:

1. poetry in languages other than English, alphabetically by language (not
paying attention to order within a language).

2. Non-American poetry in English, alphabetically by author, without regard
to period, etc. Miscellaneous anthologies, criticism, etc. before or after.

3. American poetry before 1963. (1963 is an arbitrary personal date. It was
when I felt I had "caught up" to the "present." What comes before or after is
purely subjective. So, for example, James Merrill is in category 2, but
Olson in category 3. And so on.

4. Poetry since 1963, using similar subjective criteria. (Through Christina
Strong, I guess; what comes after?)

Joel's e-mails give me joy. So many interesting things about the inside of your mind, Joel!

How the Tzu Chi Foundation and Hospitals came into being: a history and present day conflict.

I do not arrange by alphabet so much as I arrange by size and height of books. Also books on language-visual arts occupy places on the visual arts shelf instead of poetry.

Our book shelves are sort of an ongoing work in progress and could use a lot of major work. I love books, but I have never been able to look at them. For me out of sight, out of mind is better where books are concerned b/c I am easily distracted and overwhelmed when it comes to reading, my first love, I suppose. There are usually a few choice books of the moment which occupy a place on the coffee table, in my office, etc. Right now those items are Sherman Alexei's Toughest Indian in the World, chaps by Tim Peterson and Michael Smoler. The Haiku Year has a permanent home on my desk. Gerrit Lansing's February Sheaf is in my handbag. Amy Tan's The Bonesetter's Daughter is also on the coffee table because I told somebody I'd read it. No progress on that one just yet.

When we moved to Watertown I tried to organize by categories:

Poetry (small press titles and hand-made editions in their own groupings)
Visual Arts
Oversized Books (mostly catalogs)
Kort's text books (2 shelves)
Asian arts and culture
Esoterism (Buddhism, psych, astrology, etc.) and miscellany

Fiction does not have its own section and seems to get shelved wherever there is extra room. That's sort of a problem.

AVERSION:

I go to the post office and the woman who usually helps me has these awful sores and cuts on her hands, and I think, well maybe I should ask, looks like she had a bad accident! So I ask. What happened, cat? No, poison sumac! From the garden. I'm so glad that the sores have stopped running she says as she fingers her wounds and proceeds to hand me my change. My next question was, is it contagious, which was conveniently ignored. I thought, for chrissakes, ple--e-a-s-e keep it covered. This is like eating at the Chinatown eatery and watching the owner's nephew at Sam Hop pick his nose as he preps the Chinese watercress for cooking. Blahhhh!!!! I can no longer eat at Sam Hop.

The season seems to have had a definite shift this weekend - a light breeze and a change in the quality of light falling. It was quite beautiful and distracting and makes me look forward to Fall and reminds me at times of autumn in Chicago which was actually a previous reminiscence of life in Boston the first time around.

MSN.com has an interesting word list up on their site. Just saw the movie "Spellbound" last week which was adorable. Some of the words that are spelled in that movie, I have never heard of. Kort and I sorta postponed seeing it for a long time because I thought I might have some childhood spelling bee trauma flashbacks. In the movie, there is an Indian boy from So Cal who has a dad who is REALLY into the whole spirit and philosophy of the competition - there is rigorous quizzing, meditation, and intense training. The grandad of the family back in India pays 1,000 Hindus to pray for his grandson's win. If the boy had won, 5,000 poor people in India would have enjoyed a lavish meal. There was also one speller from Texas who I really wanted to win more than any other of the competitors. Both parents were immigrants from Mexico and crossed a river illegally to enter into this country when she she was a child. The father, Ubaldo, spoke no English at all and shied away from the camera. He worked on a cattle farm. There was something very heart-rending about seeing her parents at these competitions - not necessarily knowing everything that was happening, except that they were very proud and this was part of touching the American dream.

The summer is almost over and i am dying for a vacation. Something about sunshine and good weather make it hard to stay on task.

Equivalence is officially on its way to the printer today. Hooray, hooray!

Moby blips.

Kort: "In My Heart" and "Look Back In". Come home soon! And send me some cell phone pix from the Lone Star State!

1 fatality in yesterday's accident.

I think "Step into Liquid" has gotta be at least better than "Blue Crush", last summer's chick flick which I was very tempted to go out and see.

? Qui est Karl Marleau-Marcuse?

My free astrology.com "Karma Report" reports rather generically that:

The concerns in your prior lives were for maintaining your traditional cultural and social values, not to mention your wealth.

This lifetime, Shin Yu, you have gone through several major personal changes, often upheavals, to get where you are today.

In your past lives, you were completely self-sufficient when it came to providing for your material needs. This time you need to learn that inter-dependence has as much value as independence.

John Mulrooney, my neighbor from up the street, was nice enough to keep me company yesterday. Had a very good talk about people going through end of life issues, and the challenges of teaching. Some overlap there between the 2 topics. John once had an one-armed student with a hook for the missing arm. I don't know how I'd sit with that. I think I'd go home and cry, or my aversion to the body would be so strong that I would shut down and stop functioning on some level. Aversion. An interesting thing - it is what prevents us from fully engaging and being present, or being able to fully step out of our "selves".

There is a new surfer documentary out called "Step into Liquid". Saw the preview of it last week at the Kendall and just read a review in today's Metro. I think the Surf Poetry Collaborative should plan an outing/group viewing. Alright!

John Mulrooney pointed out Mars in the sky to me last night. It is sort of bright and shiny, but not red, and not at all what I expected and I was almost disappointed because reality hardly ever measures up to our expectations or fantasies but once you know that about your tendencies to project, than Mars can become Mars again, and is still brilliant and lovely in its own sparkly way, perhaps more brilliant in the context of other stars and no, nowhere as big as the moon. Yet.

Well it was a lousy commute to work this morning. There was a horrendous accident on Mt. Auburn Street right in front of the cemetery that closed the entire road between the cemetery and the big intersection/exchange and no way to get to Harvard Square but to get off the bus and walk. Right past the accident. There was a bakery truck involved and a small blue sedan that was completely demolished. Ambulances were on the scene and there was a man with his head bandaged up and his neck in a brace on a stretcher and the cops were sweeping the glass off of the street. The bus driver said "accident" and somehow I heard "acid spill". I might have preferred an acid spill. sigh.

Fighting off a nasty headachhhhheeee..

Today's dominant buddha family is VAJRA. On most days, PADMA takes the forefront.

Zozobra.

The annual ritual burning of Old Man Gloom has captured my attention for some time, perhaps more recently on account of my present dislike for the old and crotchety (which is specific at this moment to 2 awful monsters who are not my parents, thank god). There is something deeply satisfying about the destruction and burning away of the inflexible rigidity of the past, the ideas and traditions that need to be thrown out that don't fit, all thru a ritual act that innovates tradition.

When I am old, let death come swiftly. When Allen Ginsberg died, he died very quickly of a form of cancer (as did his lama) that took his life within a few months. It has been said to me that this is a sign of Allen's spiritual attainment and devotion during his lifetime to practice, that when you are ready to go, you go. No padma hanging on to the materiality and ego attachment of the world. Swift, the cutting of the ties. The ending of suffering.

I am seeing a new therapist who specializes in cognitive re-training which is a direct parallel to the Buddhist practice of meditation and working with our own discursive thoughts. I.e. labelling when I am judging and thinking "that person is an asshole" and noticing how negative emotions like anger or anxiety manifest in the body. My assignment for the week is to consider the roles that I play to myriad individuals in my life, as I would like to step out of this role play and engage with the world in new and meaningful ways. I am not interested in being anybody's mother, daughter, disciplinarian, teacher, mentor, or student. I am interested in deep engagement and the commit to waking ourselves up wherever we are at. The act of being able to articulate this thru language is in essence a renewal of certain vows and a commitment to the bodhisattva way.

F.R. - get with the fucking program! Some times it can be the most compassionate thing possible to be able to say "fuck you".

Last night some old decrepit border-line octogenarian said to me:

"I wish you had an American name, because your Chinese name is just too hard for me to remember and I don't want to."


GRRRRRR!

A painter friend in New York is putting together a Guggenheim application. When this year's awards were announced earlier in the Spring, I was in New Hampshire surrounded by artists and writers who had been eagerly anticipating the announcment in the New York Times. Several folks had put in applications and were slightly crushed to not be listed among the few and fortunate. Do competitions automatically have to breed competition? Should everybody run out and apply? Do competitions like Guggenheim just breed desire and attachment?

The new Time Magazine has a picture of Arnold S on the cover with the phrase "AHHNOLD!?" superimposed over the superstar. Proofreading question here for all you editorial/grammar geeks - is the question mark supposed to come before the exclamation point? And if it is, does that make Arnold look stoopid?

Books I am carrying around with me and intending to read:

a quilt film about the life (death) of jack spicer by Coryander Friend and Michael Smoler
Cumulus by Tim Peterson

Good night, Texas!

The S.A. Grand Coffee House in Union Square is an interesting little gathering. Joel S, Mark L, Xtina, Tim, Chris Rizzo, and Aaron T were all present today. Relaxed and informal. Discovered the short cut from Harvard Square to Union Square on the way back to Cambridge. The red line broke down on my way in and it took an hour and a half to get to Somerville. The walking option is much better!

It was my first time meeting Chris Rizzo in person who I liked quite a bit. Namely, that he resists a certain urge to gossip or perpetuate negative ways of thinking. We compared a few experiences of teachers in writing programs, and C.R. was very clear about stating that he had very generous teachers, and there is something very honest and earnest about that recognition of gift.


It was really good to see Joel who talked about Stendahl and love. Conversations on love interest me as much (possibly more than) conversations on poetry. But than they come close to being the same thing, like in Barthes' A Lover's Discouse.

Terri's event at the zeitgist last night had a good turnout. Seth announced the break-up of Spore Attic and sang some new songs written since the split. Met Terri's friend, Jamie Skolfield, of Seattle who makes the most amazing sushi handbags. Her website isn't up and running yet, but check out www.lunch-line.com in a few weeks. Seth, Michael, Terri, and Kort all read parts in my play. There was some stand up comedy (no comment), Terri did a wonderful dance piece after the admission, a guy named Alex sang some indie pop songs, and the program concluded with a zany piece in which Terri and Jamie dressed in matching 1950s style outfits, made fresh lemonade and served it to the audience while the voiceover recording played Terri reading some of the shambhala/Buddhist teachings. It was a really special part of the presentation - the thanking of the audience and acknowledgement of the guest - not unlike the practice of Japanese tea.

I wish that Lar would write more on his blog. Hoping for a report on his South Carolina road trip with his 70+year old father Johnny Lee. Johnny named Larry after Larry Jackson, a left handed pitcher for the Chicago White Sox.

Working for the man...

I had my teaching evaluation on Tuesday. Still processing that one...

Had a good talk with Larry last night. Yuchia is in Taiwan for another week and is scouting out job opps for the 2 of them abroad! That would be very fun - if they ended up in Taiwan and me and Kort ended up in Taiwan or Japan or somewhere on that side of the world. Which reminds me, need to email Larry about the Rockefeller Brothers Fund . But hotmail is still not working! Larry teaches for our alma mater, SAIC which sounds like a messy affair right now with downsizing and layoffs and poor financial management. In times of stress surrounding my issues around teaching, I have often called on Larry for ammo on how to deal with a difficult situation - from my 150+ docents at the DMA to working with an elderly gent in my current situation, Larry has consistently been able to provide me with some perspective on teaching when things become awfully black and white. It is a love-hate relationship with teaching I have, for sure. Lar's advice last night was to remember that it's ok for your students to fail - not in the sense of grades or marks, but in the sense of recognizing that you may do everything you can to wake a person up, but in the end it's still their choice to drink from the waters or not.

My hotmail account is not loading and the meditation on cultivating patience has disappeared out the window...

I should seriously invest in a cell phone. On a break between meetings in the Longwood Medical Area this morning, I bought a phone card and called JB in New Mexico from a phone booth in a hotel to chat details about my final manuscript. The photo's been pulled(whew!) but he proposed putting another image in. Libran that I am, I am totally incapable of making some decisions. Like walking into the CVS and having to decide between buying the Oreos and the Fig Newtons. Agony!

I have this horrible and somewhat irrational fear that my publisher is going to hate me or find me at least, unreasonably difficult and obtuse, for not speaking up about my issues and never want to work with me again. Arghhhhhh. Costly mistakes - in the sense of finances and personal relationships.

Being in on the process of making a book was highly educational, but maybe a little bit too much hands on.

Missed bowling in davis square last night. Who won?

Last night at the Brattle, a screening of Zhang Yimou's "To Live", the narrative of one family strugging to survive throughout the political shifts taking place in China from 1940-1970.

SYNOPSIS: When the irresponsible Xu Fugui loses his family's fortune during a gambling spree, he causes his loved ones incredible hardship. Fugui's father dies from a heart attack upon hearing the news, and his pregnant wife abandons him. Unable to put bread on the table, even for himself, Fugui works as a street vend0r, and when his wife notices his uncustomary humility, she returns. Within a year, Fugui desires to open a shop but is unable to raise the necessary funds. Instead of money, the local loan shark (who cheated Fugui out of his home and family fortune) gives him a box of shadow puppets. Soon, Fugui masters the art of puppetry, which increases his paltry income -- but also serves as propaganda for the imminent Communist Revolution. Throughout the story, it is Fugui's skill at puppetry that saves his life - when he is forced to serve as a KMT soldier and captured by Mao's army, he and his friend Chungshang are spared for their ability to entertain the troops. Later, puppetry raises Fugui's stature in the community when his puppet shows seem to have a positive effect of increasing production from the people of his village who are ordered to smelt steel. Thruout the movie there are references to the desire to "liberate" Taiwan, i.e. with bullets. Some things never change.

Most visually stunning moment in the movie: when Fugui's pregnant wife rides away into the night on a rickshaw having just left her husband and taken their child. The light which illuminates her from the moon or street lights (not sure) references back to the play of light in the shadow puppetry motif that carries on thruout the movie.

I had the worst freak out last night that I have had yet about my book - all over the controversy of no, not a poem, but one of my black and white photographs that is laden with funerary and ancestral symbolism and is included in the book. What will my relatives say? What will my Asian American friends say? What will the Taiwanese people think when I return for a visit in October - what a typical A-B-C?

Meditation on Patience

The Life of Milarepa
trans. by Lobsang Lhalunga

What good is meditating on patience
If you will not tolerate insult?
What use are sacrifices
If you do not overcome attachment and revulsion?
What good is giving alms
If you do not root out selfishness?

Naropa grad Michael Smoler will be in town on Saturday! All the more reason to join us at the Zeitgist!

I need a few readers to be 1 of 4 voices in an experimental play that will be read at the Zeitgist on Saturday. If you are interested, please email me!

Please join me this Saturday, August 16
"YOU CAN DO MORE THAN ONE THING WELL"
A Salon
6-8 p.m.
Zeitgeist Gallery
Inman Square, Cambridge

New music, dance, words, comedy, general all-around talent.

Picked up a CD of the band James' b-sides this weekend. Haven't listened to the whole thing yet, but I am disappointed. There is one good cover of Lou Reed/V.U.'s "Sunday Morning" and that is it. The cover of Bowie's "China Girl" is not great either.

Amanda just bought rollerskates! The classic old school version I hope, and not the rollerblade.

I have many fond memories of rollerskating as an adolescent. The cool thing to do on Friday and Saturday nights growing up was to go down to the California Skate on Michigan Ave. in Grand Terrace and to meet friends for a little rollerskating and socializing. Sometimes fist fights and cat fights would break out between different groups of girls who were eyeing the few older boys who went to schools other than us. The older kids working at the rink, behind the skate rental booth and the snack bar, spinning records, or policing the floor, always seemed slightly sullen and contemptuous of the throngs of prepubescent adolescents. My first kiss took place in a skating rink when I was 13 years old. John Clay Vollmer. John had a twin brother named Jody and both were really into skateboarding, smoking pot and slacking. Last I heard, John joined the army. He dropped out of school at one point. Wonder if I'll see him at highschool reunion in 2 months.

Ventured out of the city this weekend to the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem. My first time on the commuter rail out of Boston. On exhibition were two really wonderful shows "Ancestor Worship", ancient Chinese ancestor portraits, and "Family Ties", contemporary takes on the relationship between the artist and family. Featured in "Family Ties" were some great photographic works by Shihrin Neshat, Nan Goldin, Duane Michals and others. The PEM seemed to have a real bent towards photography - on exhibition in another gallery were 19th century images of Asia (China, Japan, Hong Kong, Tibet, and India). The best part of the Museum (which we missed b/c tickets always sell out immediately - GRRRR) was the Yin Yu Tang, a VERY special house from Huang Cun, in the hills of Xiuning County in the Huizhou region of Anhui Province, approximately 250 miles southwest of Shanghai. The house was dismantled, shipped to the US and reassembled and installed on the grounds of the Museum. The Huang family who owned this house ceased to occupy the home in the early 80's and instead of letting the house fall into further disrepair, donated their ancestral home to the Museum to assure its perpetuity. It is somewhat magical - a house acting as a cultural ambassador or window into a whole other culture. In the documentary on Yin Yu Tang, the project manager refers to the house as a "lucky child" who will receive great amounts of love and attention.

Take the quiz: What's your linguistic function?

You are the EMOTIVE Function: orientation or set (Einstellung) toward the addresser. You serve mostly to show how the speaker is feeling during a given utterance. You are such a drama queen. You may also be a New Brutalist (since as we all know New Brutalists are emotional, unlike L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E poets), or a hysteric.

Picked up the latest issue of ReadyMade Magazine last night from Urban Outfitters. This issue has a special section on alternative photography - digital pixal, blueprint photos (not cyanotype but some other process), and tips on using your Holga. Holga just came out with a new model with a built-in flash feature. Supposedly, there's a way to make a Holga into a pinhole camera too. Have been wanting to explore that more since getting acquainted with the work of the fabulous Barbara Ess.

I am on the 5th galley of my poetry book and getting anxious. I would like for it to resolve itself soon. If I say it will it make it happen?

I like what Jim has to say about Boston in terms of acceptance of a place, thorns and all, and the notion of "home". Growing up in Boston is probably very different than moving here as an adult. I feel both conflicted and accepting of Southern California - it was vacuous, and empty-headed, and culture equalled Hollywood - but I totally LOVE Los Angeles, and would move back to Cal in a heartbeat. Of course, I'd have to re-learn how to drive which is an essential part of California living. California is wacky and weird, a culture that's both familiar and something I can understand and relate to, in a way that New England doesn't always make sense on some emotional level.

I have moved around many times now in my life that I can recognize that when I set up house in a new city, I look for the familiar, the thread of continuity in experience, and if it doesn't easily present or manifest, things feel off balance. If most of us come from a place other than Boston and make this place our adopted home, could it be than that we long for the familiarity of other places (i.e. cool women and girlfriends) we have called home vs. accepting the richness and the unique circumstances of what's presented to us? I for one am guilty of a wandering eye.

Caught the Zhang Yimou doublefeature at the Brattle last night: "Raise the Red Lantern" and "Ju Dou", two films which do an amazing job of illuminating the struggle of women in a patriarchal and Confucian culture. When the previews run and the voiceover describes Gong Li as "incomparable", there is no other way to put it.

The Boston Phoenix has a nice little review on the new Duran Duran box set. Back in adolescence, I think most of my schoolmates favored Simon who seemed slightly more masculine than his counterparts - the whole charismatic fronstman thing. I always took a liking to John who looks even more smashing with his hair short. "Metrosexuals", the review describes them as "sexually straight men who like to shop, who have a bathroom full of facial products, who appreciate a good spa day." I think that was the Bryan Ferry influence.

A Tanabata poem from Kort Bergman:

Half way around the world he sits thinking of her
Wondering what it would feel like to walk on crows
Carefully he eyes the great black birds on the street
Waiting for them to arrange themselves

Arnold has finally joined the race in California. My parents are rolling their eyes.

Hey blogsters - Celebrate the Tanabata by writing a short poem, see below.... Send them in and I will post them. Here are some classic examples

Two Tanabata Poems

Don't look up
by yourself
at the sky where stars meet--
the wind from the Milky Way
blows cold.

How I envy the Tanabata Stars
their once-yearly lovemaking tonight--
in this world,
there is a woman who doesn't know what love's future may be.

- Izumi Shikibu


Amidst the flowers a jug of wine,
I pour alone lacking companionship.
So raising the cup I invite the Moon,
Then turn to my shadow which makes three of us.
Because the Moon does not know how to drink,
My shadow merely follows the movement of my body.
The moon has brought the shadow to keep me company a while,
The practice of mirth should keep pace with spring.
I start a song and the moon begins to reel,
I rise and dance and the shadow moves grotesquely.
While I'm still conscious let's rejoice with one another,
After I'm drunk let each one go his way.
Let us bind ourselves for ever for passionless journeyings.
Let us swear to meet again far in the Milky Way.

- Li Bai

translated by Jane Hirshfield and Mariko Aratani

There are some differing attitudes on when exactly this legend should be celebrated, but we are now in the season of the Tanabata:

This legend was probably introduced in Japan during the Nara era (710-794) and was incorporated in the indigenous legend telling the life of the princess Oto Tanabata, considered for the brocades she wove in gods' honour. However Tanabata became a popular festival only in the Heian era (794-1185).

According to a chinese legend, Tentei, the celestial emperor had seven daughters. The youngest one, expert in weaving, was called the Weaver (Shokujo or Ori Hime). Sitting each day in front of her weaving loom she did not weave ordinary fabrics but only celestial brocades for each change in season. Each day the sky's arrangement was one of her masterpieces.

One day, the princess, who was bored in the sky went down to stroll on Earth. There she met a young cowherd who everyone called the Shepherd (Kengyû). They fell immediately in love with each other.

Dissatisfied with her solitary life in the sky and the severe watch of her father, the Weaver dreamed of an impassioned love, a happy future and a peaceful life. She then decided to stay on Earth next to her companion the Shepherd. They formed an inseparable couple. The man worked in the fields and the woman wove...

A few years passed; from their love a boy and a small girl were born.

But soon the celestial emperor, informed of his daughter's new life, flew into a violent rage and sent a genie to seek his daughter and to bring her back to the sky. Separated from her husband and her children, the princess started to cry with pain. Noticing that his beloved had disappeared, the Shepherd placed his children in two baskets at the two ends of a plank and went in search for her. But as he was about to catch up with his wife captive of a celestial genie, the emperor's wife appeared and gave birth with a gesture with her hand to a broad, deep and tumultuous river which stopped the Shepherd.
Very grieved, the latter did not want to leave the river bank. And on the opposite river bank, the Weaver did not stop to shed tears, remaining deaf to the repeated injunctions of her father to resume her celestial weaving work.

In front of so much obstinacy, the emperor made a concession: he allowed his daughter to meet her lover once a year.

Since, each year, the seventh day of the seventh month of the lunar calendar, the celestial magpies form a tempory foobridge above the Milky Way (Ama No gawa), on which the stellar lovers: Vega (the Weaver) and Altaïr (the Herdsman), renew their pledge of love. It is said that at the dawn of this day, it often drizzles; these are the tears of the Véga princess who, clasping her children to her and tenderly holding her husband's hand, cries sadly.

Their tragic separation moved everyone and aroused the liking of everybody. This is the reason why, each year, the seventh day of the seventh month of the lunar calendar, many people stay up outside to contemplate in the sky the two Vega and Altair constellations which, that day, seem to get closer to each other above the Milky Way.

Each year the stars festival: Tanabata or Hoshi matsuri, generally takes place around the 7th of august according to the solar calendar, becoming thus an integral part of the Bon festival (ancestors' cult which takes place on the 5th of august). However some localities continue to celebrate the stars lovers on the 7th of july according to the lunar calendar.

Seasonal fruits and vegetables are offered to the two stars and bamboo branches are decorated with huge bobbles, paper lampions, strips of multicoloured japanese paper (tanzaku), talismans and small paper ornaments.

On these paper strips each participant writes a poem expressing his wish to see his aspirations in love coming true or a pledge of fidelity in love or the wish to become a better pupil in class.The bamboo branches thus decorated are placed on a pole in front of the houses and become "summer Christmas trees" (sasa kazari). At the end of the festival, the bamboo branches are thrown in a river; a ritual act which must move away the bad luck...

Happy birthday, Tom and Larry!

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Actively resisting the impulse to lift a finger at work today. I did go down to the Big House and get my annual TB test. Needles. Ouch! My accomplishment for the day.

Finally got around to taking the new Brutalist test. The results:

Which New Brutalist Are You?
You are Geoffrey Dyer. You are the shy retirer. The New Brutalism as a label makes you very uncomfortable, even angry. You want to do things on your own. Your poems are small narratives that wrench the jesus right out of any excommunicados. You are a true rock an roller.

Just logged on to the Robinson's May website. My best friend from girlhood is getting married next month. Cripes! Well I guess at this point, don't we count the days? That would be 31 days and counting... The concept of a bridal registry is hard for me to get my head around. Kyle and Rochel have been living together for years now already, but the things they have registered for are domestic items. Royal Limited china, Gorham frames, Ralph Lauren towels, etc. None of these items strikes me as being terribly personal. I guess that is my problem. They are so generic that anybody could pick them. Shopping made easy. Also, not sure how I feel about gifts like a Vera Wang martini set for 2 - am I than advocating certain habits?

Tomorrow is Tom's birthday. As well as Larry's birthday. Which reminds me, Jonah's birthday (first boyfriend ever) is right around this time of year as well. I find it interesting when two people share the same birthday, to see if there are overlaps in personality, tendencies.

Tom introduced me to the poetry of Hosai Ozaki who wrote in the one line hokku form.

My favorite hokku which I have committed to memory is:

Picturing the face of one I hate, I kick a pebble

So violent!

To clarify, Tom does not inspire violence in me so much as inspiring a fond remembrance of Japanese poetry and lovely conversations while on retreat.

My poetic crush list goes like this:

1. Tom Gilroy
2. Bill Scheffel
3. Sherwin Bitsui
4. A. Van Jordan
5. Jim Behrle

I have a new Chinese herbalist, Par Scott, of JOMTA. The herbal prescription that I am on right now makes me really tired, like pass out on the bus ride home tired or in the middle of day at work. Par's advice is to avoid dairy products, bread (high glycine index) and bananas which are "like the dairy product of the fruit world", oh yes, and fried foods, which I am not fond of at all. Starches should also be kept at a minimum (sphagetti). If I'm able to successfully eradicate these items from my diet, supposedly, I will be somewhat more awake (in the mental sense) and focused.

My herbalist before Par was Tao Xie in Quincy. Dr. Tao was a master of herbal prescriptions but our (non)communication, if you can call it that, left something to be desired. Dr. Tao liked to refer to me as an "A-B-C", a term coined by native Chinese and Taiwanese to describe 2nd generation Asian Americans - i.e. "American Born Chinese". When I was in Taiwan in 1999, I herd this term used quite a bit, by the older generation and by Taiwanese of my own approximate age group, used in a derogatory way like "FOB".

It occurs to me that the term "spaghetti western" could be mildly ethnocentric. As if spaghetti represented the Italian culture as much as say Frank Sinatra. What say you Joseph Torra? Recalling a discussion on Jim's birthday about Frank and all things Italian...

Went to the Brattle on Sunday night with Kort to watch Sergio Leone's "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly", scored by Ennio Morricone. I did not know what a spaghetti western referred to so I looked it up. I thought it had something to do with food, like what sort of television dinner you eat in front of the t.v.

"Between 1960 and 1975, European film production companies made nearly 600 Westerns. Critics either blasted or ignored these films, and because most of them were financed by Italian companies, they called them Spaghetti Westerns. Fans of the genre embraced the term which is now lovingly used to label any Western made and financed by Continental filmmakers. "

Clint Eastwood symbolized the "good" typified by dashing good looks. Lee Van Cleef, aka "angel eyes" played the "bad", and Eli Wallach played the not very pretty to look at. I had one eye on the clock during the movie. No one said anything for the first 15 minutes of the movie. Excruciating.

While I am on the subject of examining what is missing, in my life, in general - here's another question - where are all the young 20-30 something Buddhists? It will be interesting to see if on Tuesday nights as part of their new outreach program to get younger folks involved, if the Shambhala Center in Brookline will actually succeed in drawing a "younger" audience (under 35). Will there ever be another experience that comes close to replicating Naropa?

On a co-worker's desktop -

We are not human beings trying to find a spiritual path but rather spiritual beings trying to have a human experience.

Aaron T., having grown up in Cal and lived in Boston twice now, I think that California is a much more temperamentally desirable place to live in general, despite the current political climate and the state budget of the "golden" state. (Arnie has yet to declare his candidacy, but Larry Flynt has already declared his intention to run for governor.) In July/August alone, I know 2 former Bostonians who are on their way to relocating to NoCal, rootless and displaced as they may be. I think there's a certain romance that East has for West, and West has for East. It's a different "vibe" out there for lack of a better word - People are warmer, open (which may be perceived as "flakey" or "shallow"). Basically, I think people in general are more attracted to living in a place like S.F. vs. Boston. Boston is a very old city, with old traditions. California is younger, progressive, a much more liberal and culturally diverse place - from Asians to gays to Latinos to African Americans - there is a real attempt at integration and cultural mixing. I think this attempt at cultural harmony also provides more possibility for dialogue, because there are many efforts at inclusion at work.

Despite the absence of women (besides Christina Strong and Amanda Cook) in the poetry community in which I'm most immediately involved , I cannot say that I actually don't or haven't known any other women poets in Boston. I've met many from similar backgrounds (not all of them still here - not similar to me, but similar to one another) - Ruth Lepson, Judith Steinbergh, Kathleen Spivack, Andrea Cohen, Jocelyn Emerson, Maggie Dietz, Deborah Bennett, Valerie Duff, Erin Belieu - on the whole they seem to all have had some sort of academic affiliation - also at least a few of these women are products of the B.U. writing program. I see most of these women as having worked very independently to forge their own solitary path to becoming "professional". Ruth has been the poet in residence at the New England Conservatory for years and teaches classes on the relationship between language and the visual arts at AIB. Judith founded her own non-profit organization and press, Troubadour, and works as a poet in the schools, using music to connect with students. Andrea runs Gail Mazur's old Blacksmith House series and Maggie, who was one of my first creative writing instructors and earliest experiences of workshopping, is off to do FAWC. These are probably not women that you would see hanging out at Charley's after a Wordsworth poetry reading. It would be interesting to know who they consider to be their immediate poetic community - if that is something that is in place for them, if that is something they value, and what that thing looks like. Where the 20-30 something women poets is as rich a question to me as where are all the Chinese/Korean/Japanese/Taiwanese/Cambodian/Filipino/Laotian-American poets, Latinos, and African Americans, the young poets of color. Where are you hiding, who are you, and what are you doing?

This day is dragging...

Mark L, I owe you a response but have been too scrambled to formulate it. Here's an approximation of my thoughts...

When I was studying translation and actively doing translations from Chinese to English and Spanish to English, I was very much a translation Nazi and believed in the idea of the "perfect" translation, whether or not it really existed is questionable - the perfect translation to me incorporated aspects of linguistic and cultural understanding and did away with the intent and ego of the translator as mediator. It is what I think the serious translator should aspire to even if doomed to fail.

Over time, I have come to let go of at least some of my fanaticism and accept that there are a lot of translators (both in academia and poetry) out there with language dictionaries and little knowledge of a source language who do come up with interesting language experiments which can reshape their own sensibilities. I see the idea of "mistranslation" as an experiment in "misreading" or "mishearing" to quote Chris Rizzo's clarification.

I also like to think of translation as transformation. Like the relationship between the visual arts and language and how one can transform into another.

Recently, I have been wondering alot about how culture translates. I wonder a lot about the concept of humor and whether or not that is something that is translatable/transferrable between cultures.

From my former acupuncturist, Ethan Borg, a NESA grad and one of the best acupuncturists in Boston:

Dear Friends,

Boy has this been a hot summer -- not just in terms of weather, but also emotionally. Tempers all around seem on a razor's edge. Politcally, this whole year has been oriented around conflict -- with no sign of it soon abating.

Over three thousand years ago, Chinese doctors developed an astrological system to track major climatic movements on our planet -- with the express intent of predicting and therefore avoiding epidemics. They realized that when certain planets in our solar system were brighter than normal, they would have a much larger impact on the movements of energy on Earth.

There are five basic movements of energy -- which directly relate to how things can orient in three dimensions: rising, falling, stretching, flowing, and accumulating. These are called the Five Elements: Metal, Water, Wood, Fire, and Earth. Each Element is associated with a season where its movement of Qi has the greatest influence and impact. Summer, for instance, is Fire, as the Qi flows more quickly -- which we experience as heat. Not only does Fire relate to warm temperatures, it also relates to increased conflict or increased clarity, two sides of the same coin. Conflict may take the form of the locking of horns with another person, or it can manifest as increased perseverating over an issue that has not been fully thought out and resolved.

From an astrological perspective, this summer is very special. The planet Mars will be closest to earth than it has been in over 6000 years! Up until August 27th, the planet Mars will grow increasingly bright in the night sky -- which means its influence over the Qi on our planet will also increase propitiously.

Unfortunately for us, Mars is a Fire planet reaching its peak in a Fire season. In other words, the influence of Fire will be at its greatest this month than it has theoretically been throughout recorded history. When Fire is excessive, it transforms into Earth. Astrologically, this whole year is an Earth year and we have already seen an epidemic (SARS) whose nature is phlegmatic in nature (an Earth feature). Other signs of Earth are achy joints, increased energy or, ironically, great fatigue, digestive problems, and muscular problems -- to name only a few examples.

If we boil all this down, it means we have a choice. Over the next month, we may potentially experience a steady increase in conflict which can lead to Fire or Earth forms of disease -- or we can seek and cultivate greater levels of clarity in our lives. Clarity (Fire) transforms into Trust (Earth). Clearly this is the better path!

THINGS YOU CAN DO

There are plenty of things you can do to "stay cool" during this fiery August. First of all, spend as much time as you can around water -- be it ponds, lakes, rivers, or oceans. If you ever needed a 3000 year old excuse to hang out by the beach, you'll never get a better one than this. Play in the water but avoid sunbathing -- better to hang out in the shade as much as possible.

Second, it is very important to keep your internal temperature cool by eating internally cooling foods. By far, Watermelon is the best cooling food for the summer and is especially good if you are feeling feverish and/or achy -- which we call Summer Heat. I recommend eating a little watermelon daily this month. Black tea and lemonade also will cool you down. Green tea is ok, but not as good as black tea. Juicy melons of any type are highly recommended. Celery is also recommended. Mung beans are the best beans for right now. White or sticky rice (while not nutritionally significant) is cooler than other forms of starches.

Things to avoid. You're going to hate me for saying it but definitely decrease (notice I didn't say stop!) your coffee intake. Everyone knows coffee can make their heart race -- and this is because its nature is warm and fiery. Also, avoid hot spices like cayenne, chilies, and paprika. Black beans are warm, so they should be avoided this month. Quinoa, while my favorite starch, is too warm for this month. Avoid using your ovens for long to keep the house from heating up. And don't exercise as hard -- especially during daylight hours. Given the increase in Fire, this month you want to slow your heart rate rather than rev it up.

Finally, now is the time to turn your mind away from conflict and expand clarity in your life. One way to do this is to tackle all of the little chores in your life that you've been putting off that are constantly nagging you in the back of your mind. I also recommend self-hypnosis or guided relaxation to slow your heartbeat and relax your muscles. Meditation of any form will be particularly helpful and you may find yourself having unexpected insights as a result.

All that said, don't forget to watch the night sky -- as Mars will grow larger and brighter than we have every seen it!

Stay cool my friends,

Ethan Borg, Lic. Ac.
Boston, MA
ethan@meridians.info