blog (January, 2003)
rough hew them, though we may
My dome is a bit small in this photo, but if you know me in "real life," you've probably noticed the glaring deficiency. A week and a half ago I went into the woods after dark and began hacking away with scissors at my shoulder-length curls and dreaddy knots. Reading about possessions and distractions from samadhi in Geshe Michael Roach's To The Inner Kingdom ultimately forced the moment, but the deed was some time in the making. I've been frustrated with my hair ever since getting the dreadlocks in Morocco a few months ago, and finally gave up trying to pull them out hair by hair.
I've surprised (and escaped initial recognition with) a few people, and have since received both positive and negative reviews. It was really very liberating, and I'm excited with the change and relatively happy with the results. Might keep it short for awhile.
These opposing mirrors badgered me to try and catch them in their neverending game. I've submitted the pic to The Mirror Project: here.
don't mistake us for some corny-ass crew
Yesterday the campers left; sad, but a breath of air after a hard summer's work, and an especially full-on week and a half. The summer flew by. I can't say I've accomplished everything I'd hoped to -- not in the least -- but I've labored and achieved, and enjoyed much of my time here. Last night was the final piss-up of the summer; the majority of my counselor co-workers left today for NYC, their starting point for travels around the states or, like my best buds, to Mexico, or returning back home to Aus./NZ/UK/etc.
I'm hanging around for a week of post-camp to take down the computer lab properly, and to work on a couple small projects. I have liberties with my schedule, allowing me to run with The Running School, which is using our camp for the week.
Here's to trying to keep up with many of the best high-school XC runners in the nation...
buggin' out
Why is it that when i come up
I just worry 'bout coming back down?
Never satisfied with filling my cup
Always spill it all over the ground.
stardust, golden, back to the garden
Today many of the other counselors took to The City for their day off, to see a ball game and a bit of Manhattan. I set out walking down the road armed with a camera and a plastic bag with fruit, a book, and my running clothes. My trainers I sling over my shoulder to tread the miles barefoot. Inchworms dangle, dancing, at eye-level from high branches, searching for their landing pads. A deerfly swims laps around my head.
On city runs in Cleveland we joked of measuring our distance in Kentucky Fried Chickens instead of miles. Here and now either POSTED signs or smooshed asphalt frogs would be appropriate.
Dogs bark as I pass a farmhouse. The owner at the door yells, "Come on guys, leave her alone!" I laugh and remind myself to pull out the rest of these dread-knots so I can get a haircut.
Coming up the last large hill I spy white tent tops. Voices and gentle music grow louder. Across the street from the Woodstock grounds and monument: the Bethel Summer Farmers' Market -- my destination.
A chairmaker and some pottery in the first open-walled tent. The next, a few tables bearing local produce, a man promoting his book, and the highlight for me, a guitar/mandolin duo tucked between a woman selling bagels in woven baskets and a man with an assortment of maple syrup products, pancake mix and ground beef.
I sat at a picnic table in the middle of the tent, facing the old tie-dyed, sunglassed musicians, plopping my bag and shoes on the grass next to me. Enjoyed a $1.50 pound of delicious plums and relaxed.
My cue came when the pair began "Goin' Down the Road Feelin' Bad." I walked past the Woodstock grounds until I found a suitable hiding place. Turning my head to direct my ears down the road, I changed quickly, slipping on shorts and shoes. Grabbed my watch, dumped my gear in the weeds, and started running. The main road I came to reminded me of Tuam Road out of Galway, where I did a few long runs in Ireland. The farms here were a bit newer, the cows fatter, and every car a 4-wheel drive, but the trucks blew the same giant gusts of exhaust on me as they thundered by.
Took a short detour down the road to Max Yasgur's old house, and another climbing stone steps up to an overgrown vantage point. I turned back early, though, tired perhaps from the morning's long walk and the anticipation of the return trip. Collected my things and retired to read Steinbeck on the end of a rock wall in the shade for an hour, before returning by alternate route back to camp in time for shower and dinner; necessary after the 16-mile day.
no one knows where the nose goes
A few new ones for my 26 things. Don't think I'll finish by the end of July, as the project is meant to be. I'm in quite an enclosed environment here at camp without a car. If I took the camera out on runs with me I'd have a bit more, but it's just not practical.
A bit of a constipated creativity-and-idea environment here, in general, it feels. At least in one vein. I'm doing well learning about the kids I'm living with -- how to better interact with them, how their wheels turn -- but they are young and I am having trouble finding revelations through them. And as far as directions I want to be looking right now... if it weren't for the net, who knows.
diversion
A bit late in the month, so I've got to rush, but I've decided to take photos to fit 26 themes during this July. See my 26 as I take them, and the official 26 things site.
First saw the idea on Bone Idle, a fantastic photolog.
spread thin
Lately I've been striving for balance, and not doing too poorly, but today brought the sensation that I've hit overloaded mode. Switching context too often, and between too many activities -- as a result, I don't perform well in any.
It's tough at the moment to sort out priorities. Counselor-ing, maintaining this computer lab, blogging, programming, running, reading, browsing, socializing, practicing the guitar, etc., are just the top of the list. I've got a full plate of other responsibilities here as well, and though no one's really pressing me hard on all or any of these things, I'm feeling a certain amount of failure. My expectations aren't exceedingly high, that's why I'm frustrated -- I'm not attaining the attainable -- there're just too many of them to take on at once.
So, I haven't got a solution; dilemma strangles my thoughts, and poses as another headache in-and-of itself.
Something has to go?
but not to itch at all
I felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all. The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past childhood or past manhood and all the living and the dying and the heartbreak that went on a million years ago and the clouds as they pass overhead seem to testify (by their own lonesome familiarity) to this feeling.
-- Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums
guru dev namo
I like taking the "dig the patterns in this leaf" approach instead of the L-system fractal approach.
-- Dave
i've drawn the conclusion it's all an illusion
My boys arrived Wednesday. They're around 12 years old and there are seven of them in my bunk, of which I share counselor duties with an Andy from Minnesota. The computer lab is coming along well, although there's still tons to be done; tonight I'm up making sure about 200 digital photos taken today make it up onto the camp website before the morning.
Yesterday I talked to myself. Well, normal, I guess. Ok, I talked to myself while I was out running. And to tell the truth, I talked to myself about talking to myself, while I was out running.
I reminded myself that if anyone was in the area and heard me, they would think I was crazy, but I think I was crazy to remind myself of anything. How can I remind my self? There was more I intended to write about this, but I must not've reminded myself well enough. But I was in good spirits. The daily run is a much-needed break from the kids, the computers, and the ceiling and air conditioning.
No poacher gunshots today. The only predator I saw was a hawk that sailed over my head, and signs of a larger beast in the treadmarked turtle pancake on the road.
calabaza con puerco
A few images from the four month trip I returned from recently. Perhaps more on the way. A bit anachronistic, but I was unhappy being unable to upload pics from camera to inetcafe computer while traveling.
From the mountains near Castellón, Spain; mid-January...
caminando, esperando
If you've got no place to go and nothing to do, it's usually a good idea to follow african drumming sounds, if you hear them. I've seen a lot of Madrid in the last few days, and walked a lot. I have a blind man's sense of direction. This is great for travelling. Getting lost 10 or 15 times a day helps me see more of the city. Exercise too.
I've found a decent hostel, and moved there. By day I stroll the streets and some of the attractions, and study Spanish on park-bench breathers. At night, more studying and reading. My lack of command of the language is hindering my ability to make something happen for me here. I'm getting restless about finding a farm to work on. I've gotten no responses yet. I need some sense of security.