after the pencil soars through

rest in peace Whitney...

2012-02-11T22:14:00.001-06:00

one of my all time favs is this live take of "a song for you" :

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=anm6M8T1nsU

ox!

i can't complain....

2010-09-02T21:25:00.005-05:00

i'm happily back in the classroom teaching 3 college English courses
and continuing the pursuit of my master of arts...life is still working for me

gone for a while...leaving you with my mess

2010-07-01T15:31:00.008-05:00

here's a look at one of the ickiest places in my home: my bookshelf. no, seriously, you can see the dust in the photos. (i also posted these on my FB) - the best discipline is self-embarrassment. hopefully, by the time i return, i'll have a cleaner space to show. egad!!

gera's girl

2010-06-29T08:55:00.004-05:00

our marilyn just gets better and better. a much earlier post shows her beautiful but lacking a colorful background and some other finishing touches. my guy finally completed her a few months ago and i just think she's stunning and fills our living room wall in a way that strikes one's senses.

finds 3

2010-06-26T08:42:00.008-05:00

Scavenging has proved to be one of my long time favorite hobbies. Here's a beauty we snagged at an estate sale. She's devious and feisty looking and not trying to be anyone's friend...yikes! She turned her back on me within 1.2 minutes of me trying to get to know her.

finds 2

2010-06-22T08:15:00.005-05:00

i love love love the old couple to-be-parents for more than its humor. we're headed out again this weekend for more scavenging.

a question of ...

2010-06-17T13:40:00.009-05:00

education.
what happens when women completely covered in muslim apparel go to the bank or the airport and must present and confirm identification or are stopped by police? do they break with strict religion and lift the veil? or...how does it work? surely their husbands can't do it all - surely somewhere in the U.S. a fully covered muslim female has been faced with having to confirm her identity. gera asked and I honestly don't know the answer or enough about the custom(s)--even though many of my students (some I've known for a few years) wear the hijab---and quite stylishly. it's something I'd like to know too...if they lift the veil how does that break in tradition affect them, if at all...

finds

2010-06-03T23:10:00.016-05:00

when gera and i go scavenging for our flea market spread, from time to time we come up with some old tell-tell stuff.
this 50s florida advertisement was taken apart and i used it to make a collage. the art of thought.

ahhh...this is it for now...

2010-05-14T22:27:00.003-05:00

.at least until June 7 when my summer graduate courses begin.

language and...

2010-05-13T13:44:00.009-05:00

Why is that we .... because we can't speak perfect....
That we must be....
And why do others demand that....is a must in order to....
Why?
Isn't it better if we....non-native....speakers that to....is to....

A few students cried because they didn't pass my class, but in the end the tears turned to gentle laughter behind smiles. I pose the question: can you image if I were trying to learn your language in which there is no present, past, or future tense?

I refuse to set....up to....no can do.

from Andre Breton's Manifesto

2010-04-15T15:57:00.007-05:00

Here's a quote full; the first line takes my breath away:

Beloved imagination, what I most like in you is your unsparing quality. The mere word 'freedom' is the only one that still excites me. I deem it capable of indefinitely sustaining the old human fanaticism. It doubtless satisfies my only legitimate aspiration. Among all the many misfortunes to which we are heir, it is only fair to admit that we are allowed the greatest degree of freedom of thought. It is up to us not to misuse it. To reduce the imagination to a state of slavery--even thought it would mean the elimination of what is commonly called happiness--is to betray all sense of absolute justice within oneself. Imagination alone offers me some intimation of what can be, and this is enough to remove to some slight degree the terrible injunction; enough, too, to allow me to devote myself to it without fear of making a mistake (as though it were possible to make a bigger mistake). Where does it begin to turn bad, and where does the mind's stability cease? For the mind, is the possibility of erring not rather the contingency of good?

untitled

2010-04-03T10:55:00.008-05:00

my great grandmother had a host of old dolls dating ooweeback! this little beauty from her unintended collection reminds us that cloth diapers and safety pins were a noteworthy fashion AND a nod to momEarth. if only we could go back...of course then...we'd have the washing machine going more than often...yet...it's still fun to think about.

hiccups in human reproduction

2010-04-02T10:39:00.005-05:00

is it me or does anyone else think Eva Mendes could be Rachel Welch's daughter...sister...mother in another life? Weird!

passing time...creations and revelations

2010-04-01T13:27:00.009-05:00

gera hand makes these in his sleep. we sell them at the market like buttermilk hotcakes

i'm lost in reading and figuring it all out...preparing for those big, lengthy, conference length essay with which we finish off the semester in grad school - i've done my research, now i just need to start writing. i still have about four weeks AND i have a stack of papers and quizzes to grade...my students aren't happy with me right now...oh well...

gera's handmade vase that ladies just love to buy - we bicker over pricing these - but it's his show

more lips. it's funny but guys and little kids tend to buys these more than any other group.

i get on his nerves when i ask, so...are you gonna make some black and brown lips? we'll see. i'm so annoying at times...it's fun though!

tiger woods and the golf chorus...a modern oedipus?

2010-03-20T11:53:00.015-05:00

over spring break (a nice time away from graduate studies and teaching), i think i watched way too much CNN. i was thinking about tiger woods, his supposed (rather quick) come back and could not help but think of Oedipus and how the chorus acts as conscience. even though the masters tournament draws and houses the prestige of prestige fans, someone is going to heckle. and what if that person yells what used to be a common phrase of support "in the hole"...? yikes...a conscience check if ever.

though a good king to his people, Oedipus's pride destroys him, but it also prevents him from perpetual incest...i wonder where tiger gauges on pride, today? i wonder if the golf chorus will be able to whip him morally? i'm still on the 'probably not' side of things, but one never knows..

provoking images of Oedipus via google:

still in denial - gabourey sidibe

2010-03-18T11:36:00.011-05:00

something is very, ever wrong with this cartoon drawing of gabourey. what happened to her beautiful dark skin?

respectfully, i have to say this artist at toonpool.com is sending that same-old message, perpetuating the same-old stigma that light-skin is better...that dark skin is socially unacceptable, a lesser. my daughter wouldn't be too happy about this...

another lost art?

2010-03-12T13:16:00.033-06:00

every now and then i sit down and write a letter. here's an old atlas map book put to good use, addressed to Sussex. the envelope idea is first borrowed from long time friend, Spring Warren, Author of the notable Turpentine and put into action again by the influence of blogbud Andrea at found-art blog. Thanks gals!

i was thinking the other day about E. M. Forster's Howards End and how the telegram replaced love and letters:

"'To think that because you and a young man meet for a moment, there must be all these telegrams and anger,' supplied Margaret.

Helen nodded.

'I've often thought about it, Helen. It's one of the most interesting things in the world. The truth is that there is a great outer life that you and I have never touched--a life in which telegrams and anger count. Personal relations, that we think supreme, are not supreme there. There love means marriage settlements, death, death duties. So far I'm clear. But here's my difficulty. This outer life, though obviously horrid, often seems the real one--there's grit in it. It does breed character. Do personal relations lead to sloppiness in the end?'

'Oh, Meg, that's what I felt, only not so clearly, when the Wilcomxes were so competent, and seemed to have their hands on all the ropes.'

'Don't you feel it now?'

'I remember Paul at breakfast,' said Helen quietly. 'I shall never forget him. He had nothing to fall back upon. I know that personal relations are the real life, for ever and ever.'

'Amen!'"

...sort of like email has replaced the same and so so much more--a personal read of emotions and physical appearances...being able to gauge whether someone is disturbed or experiencing an honest moment of excitement, whether that person is happy for you or merely faking support.

somehow being locked into this kind of technological connectedness is bitter-sweet. it's our end and our new beginnings...i hope however, from time-to-time, one can...sit...and write...a love letter or a...letter...from time-to-time.

i continue to write to my deceased grandma, my Big, at least once a year. each time i write something different addressing one of only three of her letters. my response usually covers what's currently going on in life, with me, in general, my thoughts and opinions about a political issue or the like. it would be a wonder, i'd like to believe, to look back at them over time, but they are sealed.

the letters she wrote my daughter and me are so few. they are so much fun to look at. i still can't believe she only made it through sixth grade because she was able to accomplish so much. one of her letters is included in an earlier post; it could be this one. these days, i hardly ever go back to see what i've previously posted.

in playing with paint

2010-03-10T12:20:00.005-06:00

i had a moment of mean...sorry.

cudos to mom and dad - wow!

2010-02-26T03:33:00.007-06:00

addressing the UN with confidence and truth

">i'm thinking next first female president potential right here

and then came the clouds again...really?

2010-02-23T01:05:00.007-06:00

a rare moment for me...an off day...at the flea market...sun...able to walk around...i do miss selling however...hopefully...when the sun decides to stick around for longer than a couple of hours

it's not easy

2010-02-23T00:52:00.004-06:00

trying to figure what exactly i am or who i am...

a dangerous lie - Tiger Woods

2010-02-20T10:53:00.012-06:00

'role model idolizing'

no one is ever who we think. no parent can ever know his or her child more than the child. no husband or wife can ever know one another more than the individual himself or herself.

to say Tiger Woods 'let us down...he's not who we thought he was...he owes us an apology...he lied to us...he was supposed to be a role model..." is far dangerous than anything Tiger's ever done (perhaps even contracting a disease or STD).

parents are responsible for being their children's role models. false hope lies in idolizing and seeing anyone as perfect or exempt from human error. i feel sympathy for those who placed their all in Tiger as a role model - no one is ever squeaky clean, perfect, or an utmost example.

i adore Tiger for his genius--the world's best golfer--but i would never expect him or any other to be my children's hope in every way.

Tiger's fall shows that he is human, very capable of 'a' worse, and it makes him (in my humble opinion) an even better person---he is not exempt from 'mistake' or even desire. to believe anyone is...is a dangerous outlook.

who needs heat...i do!

2010-02-11T19:04:00.009-06:00

Yet another personality pinned to Texas. Snow is usual here, but not like this: brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! At least the dogs, Max and Smokey had a blast. My class at the university was canceled. Only makes room for grading essays and preparing for an archaeological project in the Medieval Body class I'm taking...I will manage a nice cup of cocoa in here somewhere and later...my favorite...hot water, lemon and honey. Cheers to those who are experiencing early Spring....ummmm, Susan!

is it a lost art?

2010-02-08T00:18:00.007-06:00

diagramming the sentence...

All this ... the reader must enter into before he can
comprehend the unimaginable horror which these
dreams of oriental imagery and mythological tortures
impressed upon me.

this thought came to me just seconds ago in leaving a comment on a favorite friend's facebook. what do you think?

sentence image from google via tidbits.com may post my own when time permits...

split the keys & the mic

2010-02-07T15:32:00.001-06:00

just cannot do without these music majesties

Over the Rhine
Jesus in New Orleans

Over the Rhine
Latter Days

Thelonious Monk
Round Midnight

Thelonious Monk
Epistrophy

andre gide

2010-02-05T19:30:00.004-06:00

Reading the Immoralist was a ride. I have a better understanding of how artists like Matisse play an important role in modernist literature. While I was reading the story, I couldn't help but see another discipline outside liberal arts that would easily welcome Gide's work: Psychiatry. The male character, Michel is a precise basket case, with more male-tenacity than one can believe. I didn't know males were capable of fluctuating, showing sensitivity to hot and cold in an useful way, loving and then not--the water faucet effect, and other emotions that are usually associated with women. I loved him!! In fact the majority of my classmates did; there were a few who hated him for his contradicting nature and other unreliable behavioral stuff--probably his most notable cutting characteristic...his lies and deception where Marceline (his wife) is concerned. I wondered under my breath how much the few who dislike Michel might have to do with current recent current numerous events of male infidelity....? I dared not put my classmates on the spot in asking that question. Despite his selfishness, Michel does try....what do I mean by try...you'll have to read it for yourself if you haven't already.

photo taken by Gera in Oklahoma 10Jan.

Dostoevsky / the Underground Man asks...

2010-01-30T15:35:00.011-06:00

"...what's better---cheap happiness or lofty suffering?"

I'll leave this post for a while, curious to see what you feel.

Me: I'm still thinking about it myself, though most of my life seems to fit with the former. i find there are more events in my life to be sad about, to suffer in than there are rosy-purplish ones - but honestly, i still can't figure out how in the hell i wake up every day not necessarily cheery, but certainly accepting and full of appreciation (happy in the greatest of minute)...i've somehow managed to place the sad stuff (and it's heavy duty sad stuff yal) right at my side - i don't think i can exist without it...now, after writing that...i'm wondering if i'm not somewhere 'in' between Dostoevsky's musing, or does between not count?

picture from google via beiderbecke.typepad.com/.../tolstoy-v-dosto.html

awkward moment

2010-01-30T12:20:00.004-06:00

i was trying to situate Gera and dogs for a photo to send to his son in Mexico. ummm, yeah, the black dude riding by on a horse, smiling at the camera was not exactly what i was aiming for...

it's not the woman this time

2010-01-24T13:33:00.024-06:00

Okay, when those years of having more children just pass on by...someone in the relationship is bound to become an obsessive, nut, maniac! It ain't me.

We have had Max, our Dalmation Basset mix, since the latter part of last year (he was so much more smaller than now-yikes!). He is really big and so heavy...

...and Polo (our snowball), just a little pup too at the time---I turned him down to our neighbor, who a day later found Gera alone walking in the house. Polo became ours about 3 mos. after we adopted Max. Gera is a sucker!! Then, last night, Gera's brother calls and says guess what...?

And here you have it folks...this cute little adorable little pure baby Basset who is in no way scared of Max-the-big-bully and who challenges Polo in barking and play biting. I'm horrified when he steps on his own ears, but I think he's supposed to do that. They are almost as long as his little body. The interesting part is we see alot of Max's Basset side in this little one. His butt is the cutest thing - when he's walking.

We're still working on a name for the little guy and thankfully, my mom is taking Polo (yeah, he's the step-child, but will get lots and lots of even bigger puppy love from her). She wanted him from Day 3.

Anyhow, EGAD! House turned kennel! My plants: gone. The carpet: destroyed. Thankfully, there's lots of playing room inside and out. We're open for names. I said Barney, Duke...Gera said Chulo, and something else that is not so challenging in English or Spanish. Suggestions appreciated.

strange

2010-01-22T14:40:00.008-06:00

so i'm taking a graduate course in modernism and reading/re-reading some incredible literatures. i'm already gearing to write my shorter paper on Woolf's Septimus and Faulkner's Benjy - all that anxiety stuff. i'm new to Dostoevsky, Proust, Gide - so it is exciting to see what their anxious male narrators do to upset romanticism and safe forefellow penmen.

til May

2010-01-16T02:42:00.008-06:00

my breath and life will be three classes worth of teaching developmental writing at the community college and my own study's worth of these works: looking at modernism and a trial interest, my second course, ...the medieval body

not a shabby way to spend Spring10 i'd say

she crossed my mind today

2010-01-12T13:25:00.008-06:00

always loving abbey lincoln
nytimes.com photo

the voice

2010-01-09T15:57:00.008-06:00

i like to think that i don't get so locked into my work, studies, writing, etc. that i forget to go see a movie from time to time - even with bouts of cable addiction. it's not something i would choose on my own to do and it's not something i would do especially if i were single. but anything that draws me away from my books has got to pack some kind of punch.

we saw Avatar yesterday evening and i must say that it is an interesting flick. i was not infatuated so much with all the technology, the animation (if that's what it's called) and if there were any 3-D moments, i missed them all. i do know that Cameron makes an usual point clear: war is useless destruction and sometimes white guys really do want to be something other than white and dominant. moments of juxtaposition that made me blink: the Avatar with a machine gun in its possession. i went back and forth between automatically placing the Avatar in a culture. i really am a movie klutz. At times, they seemed closely related to Africans and at others they were Native American Indians. hmmmm...what does that say about me? in the end, i could not help but think of this film as being a very updated, newer make of Dances with Wolves...but again, what do i know...

snippet from a Beauty Bar reading

2009-12-21T20:40:00.011-06:00

nothing lovelier than the writer herself reading from her own work . . .
Water Ghosts in PB - Summer10

what's blown a fuse lately...?

2009-11-11T18:34:00.005-06:00

Julia Kristeva's Revolution in Poetic Language! egad!

picture from behance.net

what am i to make of this...

2009-10-30T15:48:00.002-05:00

should i make anything of it? what do you make of it?

lately

2009-10-27T10:59:00.008-05:00

What have you seen lately that stopped you?
For me, it was this image taken from google: I encouraged one of my students to integrate this image into her power point presentation on recycling. Her job is to persuade.

who wouldn't want to work here?

2009-10-26T12:39:00.010-05:00

The Google Headquarters - Like working in a box of art and illusion:

you wanna see more amazing...again...see this!

2009-10-16T09:16:00.007-05:00

With permission - here is artist Jennifer Herrera's latest do titled "Flying"--this piece draws you in like nothing before. I can't stop staring at the details--it's overwhelming. What about that beautiful touch of blue in the lips...?

See much more here: i'm so hooked

everlasting recognition

2009-10-16T08:57:00.002-05:00

A must read article on one of my all time favorite human beings that ever existed: Monk!

And I'm still currently indulging in the sound track shown below

Happy Weekend to all!

thoughts

2009-10-07T11:22:00.003-05:00

I thought this line in a MSN article truthful--I have faith in elementary and high school teachers though, despite:

"Kids in Asia spend the summer studying math and science while American mall rats are texting each other about Britney and Miley."

The problem is: Miley was so born to do what she does. I do wonder, however, is she home schooled or just not in school...or does it not matter?

PB of the Month - Huffmania

2009-10-01T19:55:00.013-05:00

her photos quietly, with little effort--it seems...transcend.

i've been lost in her work for a long while and i've wondered a few times...if I had a her camera (yes, "a her camera"), I could do that too...yea right!

wow
wow
wow

and more wow!

[see my award logo to go look]

in the midst . . .

2009-10-01T19:04:00.017-05:00

of having a new, world's cutest smart pup

saussure, de man, derrida, browning, Faulkner, & navajo narratives--two courses worth

excellent health check with respect to diabetes, cholesterol, thyroid, prettybp, the like

. . . i've gone pink

i had a breast lump scare, just, only 2 weeks ago

the lump was benign but

i still feel ever linked

i am part of the CulturePinK for more reasons than 1.

our newest trouble-Max

2009-09-01T09:13:00.006-05:00

Getting a 'wipe-off' because he stinks so bad. We can't bathe him completely because his neutered area is still tender. He is a handful (Dalmation/Basset mix--yikes!), but Rubi and Abis approve.

why am i a proud american

2009-08-26T10:10:00.006-05:00

because sometimes God gets it absolutely right, even if its for a short time...

09 Fall

2009-08-19T19:47:00.015-05:00

Fall graduate courses:

Theory & Practice (the most challenging--we are graded on class rankings)

and

Reconstructing The American

For the former, we are to pick one novel and one lyric poem. They must each be canonical.

Faulkner is in my bones, always has been. So my novel pick for the T&P class is The Sound and the Fury. Loved when I studied it in undergrad, should bask in it even more so now. Still working on the poem. Leaning towards Dickinson.

Lots of work ahead. I'm teaching one Developmental English class too. Inventing a Syllabus. Grading. Teaching in general. This should be a blast, as well.

I will do my ever-so much best to publish here from time to time, but I'm directing most devotion to my students.

Boy...I sure do miss it here. But I'm glad to be sort of around. More important: I'm still watching and reading you when time permits.

* * *

I have always marveled over Faulkner's use of playing with if not destroying the line.

I hope Fall brings great wonders to your lives and keep you like fresh new fruit--your writings, postings, etc. are beautiful and highly insightful. Thank you for that!!

besitos for now!

officially a maestra

2009-07-31T20:06:00.014-05:00

...

well...i'm sort of back. i'm surviving Critical Theory - Psychoanalysis of Film, but damn it requires a lot of thinking... i know...that's the point. i'm doing pretty well though and enjoying it more than anything.

anyhoo, i finally signed all the necessary paperwork and received my first books from which to teach: Fall 2009 and Spring 2010. i hired another person to run our college Writing Center so i will only focus on tutoring (i've never been one to 'run' stuff or be administrative-like, i'm not good at bossing or overseeing others and frankly, i never have been; that mold is not part of my genetic make up) so i'm happy to have someone take the ball.

it's weird being able to call myself a college level 'teacher' now - literally. starting at the developmental writing level, the English courses will be my first course ...listed in the college course book, ...in a class room setting, ...with more than one student at a time, and ...i'm require to grade. most of the students i currently tutor are so excited about this and really, it's their fault (in a good sense), i'm taking this teaching route.

other stuff:

Texas weather is so insanely dominant right now. very very warm and rainy for days. lots and lots of humidity. in fact, right now, the sky has darkened, the wind has picked up tremendously, and thunder is booming overhead and in the distance - quite lovely actually - i love the drama, most don't. we've spent interim periods planting new grass, st. augustine, with the hope it smothers out the bermuda. we like bermuda, but it's so thin and doesn't have that plush feel. the advantage is, however, bermuda doesn't require as much water as st. augustine. my rose moss is gorgeous, peppers too, ...wandering jew is full and begging for a new pot. the succulents are just way too easy - almost nothing to do - love these and they come back every year. the mint has thinned out, but it, too, is difficult to destroy...i've had the same pot for forever. i did however add some mexican heather to my pots. i bought one tiny little pot to see what happens. i've never tried to grow it, but it reminded me of a beautiful little circle in my dad's front yard - i think my step-mom still has that circle there (she's a major green thumber). i'm looking forward to trying it out and seeing what happens.

oh, BTW i don't have to write why i picked a major blog for the PBofM...post secret is just purely the place to surf...

more to post soon...looking forward to it...happy weekend!

pop-in

2009-07-13T16:29:00.002-05:00

Lacan - Critical Theory kicking my boo-tey
a weird documentary for class titled My Fake Baby (wow!)
103 degree weather
hot dogs
smoothies
posole
cherries and apricots
flea market - start early/finish early hot sun
time with mom
no babysitting, no time
long baths
gera making wooden suns and moons, some with mirrors, others with happy faces
looking at photo slides of jenn&me - feel good moments...

hope it's cool where you are!
looking forward to coming back!

July

2009-06-30T21:57:00.013-05:00

after the pencil soars through is holding off 'til August to announce the Prolific Blog of the Month Award. There's so many to pick from. By August I'll be ready to pick a blog.

June flew.

July I'm gearing
for a second class

and...

Off for now--Enjoy July.

Thanks, Jess for the picture of Jenn's marker. You are a gem.

Boysenberry Muse

and here you are again
my boysenberry muse
you--i

never knew my spirit
and love and body could
create something so charming
so complex so beautiful that

even
the
sun

must be still to praise you

spoken winds harbor in your hair
they told a story too about
a place where dreams are
tangible and you--my

boysenberry muse
are a fussy queen who bickers over
crowds and crowds and crowds of pastels

they say that you breathe well
there and often live in the sounds
of sparkling rivers and traveling rocks
and that sometimes
your presence makes them cry

and there you are again
my boysenberry muse
you--my

absolute soul's deliverance

.02

UNIVERSAL LOSER AWARD goes to....

2009-06-29T14:20:00.004-05:00

how does it feel to be brave...?

2009-06-28T13:52:00.011-05:00

iphigenia

Some of the best people I know are more brave--to me--than Moses will ever be or truthfully any biblical or mythical character.

Brav·ery
Pronunciation: \ˈbrāv-rē, ˈbrā-və-\
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural brav·er·ies
Date: 1548
1: the quality or state of being brave : courage
2 a: fine clothes b: showy display

I've been busy this weekend with the babies Thursday after studies and Friday into late night. They were certainly a handful - Rubi more so than Abis. But she has rights and demands we meet and honestly being five years old is not easy. We love her change and argument - as long as she's respectful - we let her make her case, i.e., going to the park in 102 degree weather. She argued and pleaded, but this time she lost...for her own good. Another example pancakes at 11:00 at night. She won that one. A final example, playing games for kids (pbskids.org) past midnight. She lost that one.

Abis was good too and has discovered his toes and coos even louder - he actually laughs like a little boy when we kiss his neck and underneath his chin. It's hilarious because he is tickled and happy and coos non-stop. His little arms flail about and when we put our arms underneath his feet, he nearly springs out - his legs are so strong and he is sooooooooo fat. At four, almost five months he is eating gerber apples and carrots. His little lips smacked and smacked at the new tastes and Gera says, "Yeah, he thinks that's a chiche."

Finally, Saturday was our time. We were happy to have it, but love the little time we give the babies. They are worth it. In the midst of a busy weekend and lots to do, I was thinking about the people I know and have watched with my eyes succumb to cancer or to death in general: my 92 year old great grandmother, my very young father, even my brother and Israel came to mind. I always believe, I feel innately that I have been brave in surviving the loss of my only child--and trust me, there were times when I just wanted to go with her--my nostalgia to see her again, to hear her voice again to touch her again was overwhelming in the greatest since--nothing else mattered. It's a phenomenon, an experience that has no language. But I think back on the year 2003 of my father, of my maternal great grandmother - both passed in this same year from cancer. I was thinking of Farrah Fawcett and how brave she and my family members were for facing their enemy and I think about Israel for facing a different kind of enemy.

I will forever wear the shoes of a mother who lost her daughter, but there's a feeling that I don't know and that I am not sure if I could be as brave: facing cancer. To my loved ones who have and who do...you are my hero, now and forever.

my second, last poetry teaching assignment

2009-06-27T11:33:00.034-05:00

. . .

My Papa's Waltz
by Theodore Roethke

The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.

We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance
Could not unfrown itself.

The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.

You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.

I chose this poem because I think ambivalence is a good start when teaching young students who are new to poetry or who (in my case often at the college level) do not like poetry and will argue that it is unimportant. Also, I had to remind myself that I'm not teaching my classmates, but learning to teach college freshman and the like (what I currently do in my profession). I presented My Papa's Waltz as I often do with my current students, those who struggle with picking a poem, then writing about it.

I presented some images of boxing, waltzing, a child dancing on a father's toes, and a child holding his ear crying. Roethke creates an image in this poem that can be read in two ways if not in others: a moment of fatherly-son play -- a moment of paternal abuse. Specific words create ambivalence and are interpreted either way. There are negative associations and positive ones - although the latter is more challenging to prove.

I like this kind of ambivalence in poetry because it always serves my goal: to ignite contrary sentiments in students that lead to debate. Ultimately, I am usually successful is discussing this work with students because they end up engaging the poem. They become closer readers without even being aware.

In my presentation I experienced some technical difficulties (I don't do Macs), but bounced back with what I hope was grace. A corrupted file, too, is never good. The funny thing is about four female students said to me during a break, "Oh my God, you handled that well. If that was me, I would have cried." And one Ph.D. student said, "You handled that as cool as a cucumber." I guess I understand them, but why breakdown? The point is to teach, even when at times we might have to improvise--a custodian of literature must be able to improvise.

Now, on an even better note, one MA who teaches 9th grade high school presented the same poem as I did, but I think her method is even more effective in sparking student engagement. She has students compare My Papa's Waltz to songs Walk a Little Straighter by Billy Currington and Dance with my Father by Luther Vandross. Very nice method and style. I like this because she brings in the same father-son relations theme but expressed from different perspectives. Her goal is to have students read the latter two, then she asks how does it affect students' prospective of Roethke's work. Very nice!

I've already started my 4,000 word essay. It won't be about Lolita; I'd like to write about Nabakov's work, but it's my experience that poetry is a difficult genre for students to grasp. I'm saving my thoughts, opines and all on Lo for later. I will write on ambivalence in literature and how it seduces students to becoming active participants and yes, even close readers. I'm using sources like Dickinson's "Twas a like Maelstrom, with a Notch" - what does it refer to? How does it make the reader-student participate in her work? By filling in the it does the reader-student sort of write the work with her? And, I'm using Shakespeare's Othello. What is that this Roderigo and Iago initially refer to? Of course, we find out later, but in the beginning we have to fill-in. And what about backstory?

Classes are ending July 7 and I have an even greater presentation coming up. Teaching Nabakov's Lolita; there will be others...professors, students, college affiliates invited to take in our short lectures.

I'm excited about this final project.

RIP

2009-06-26T11:51:00.007-05:00

You both remind us that being human is a complex existence. In the end, we are all vulnerable beautiful creatures.

my lil sis kicks boo-tey!

2009-06-22T21:53:00.004-05:00

Coming in second at the Lake Natoma Sprint Regatta!

She's a San Francisco paddler---representing North Beach!

for my first teaching assignment

2009-06-21T11:28:00.022-05:00

. . .

Dulce Et Decorum Est
by Wilfred Owen

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned out backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!--An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs
Bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

It wasn't easy teaching literature, a poem of choice, to a bunch of Ph.d and seasoned MA students. I was nervous in the beginning, but quickly loosened once the hard, beautiful sounds, assonance in Wilfred Owen's poem read through my voice, off the curves of my lips. If you've never read this poem aloud, try it - it makes you want to cry because the language is beautiful, strong, but you are also stunned and horrified as Owen intends. As long as there is war...this poem...written in response to his World War I experience is timeless.

I was a little worried that a war poem might not set well, particularly once you get to the end and feel the bitterness in Owen's work. But there was such a variety in the poems colleagues chose. Overall, I think my lesson went over well in the short time frame we had - I focused on the strongest literary element: imagery and use of 'children' instead of young men, compound adjectives, and that prominent change to second person point of view. I haven't received my professor's comments yet, hopefully by tomorrow. I have one more to teach and then I have to teach Nabakov's Lolita - I'm looking forward to the latter. I'm so ready now.

Happy Father's Day to my two Daddies, Emmitt and James - the ex-Vietnam War Vets.

And for Father's Day Gera is getting an excellent dinner (caldo de camarones y pescado), a shot or two of gold Patron, and we may drive to the lake if the hot sun permits. He's spoken to his son so they've bonded for the day. We can't wait for the day when Alan comes to live with us. That will be the best Father's Day present.

Gera also said, "Happy Father's Day to you too." I responded with a curious smile, "Why would you say that?" He said, "Because you were Jenn's mother AND her father." Sometimes the sense he makes is too much to handle. It was endearing.

Hope you all have an excellent one and the weather is treating you well!

Trace & Crash

2009-06-19T23:26:00.012-05:00

I swear my best friend loves her dogs more than her husband and their children. These are two separate moments of Trace & Crash passed out from too much Chardonnay!

You gotta love it!

and in her own words: 'Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways - Chardonnay in one hand - chocolate in the other - body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming 'WOO HOO, What a Ride'

critters that invade

2009-06-19T22:51:00.016-05:00

this little guy was just dying to get into something...he held his little body half in the air, couldn't make up his mind which way, up or down, he wanted to go. finally, he went on about his way, hopefully to later become something a lot more beautiful than he is now--ick!

and this mean mama has been hanging around between neighbors, giving that look of 'give me more food' but don't get close to me. her babies are the cutest things, but we can't touch them because she hisses, even at them at times and they scratch too much which means fleas...i hate cats with a serious passion so i stay far away and respect her space

the june bugs are back too, slamming their bodies into houses, cars, doors, thudding around and winging around like loons (crazies, not duckies). they are fascinating creatures to watch, that is until they fly in your direction...for me it's haul ass.

and then gera found a butterfly that could not fly. he brought it in the house and let it wander around and even tried to feed it cantaloupe juice in a tiny little spoon. he's nuts! but then again, i'm the same way with pokechop, the german shepard mix--i save all leftovers we have just for him and i even save skinfat from chicken. worse case...i bought a package of bacon, fried it and fed it to him. the neighbors are highly negligent.

i finally convinced gera to get rid of the impaired butterfly. it creeped me out aimlessly walking around the living room instead of flying.

hot rains = pots full of pretty

2009-06-12T12:22:00.053-05:00

. . .
In Texas, we are finally getting another break, today, from hot rains. The skies, for the last two days, have changed from dark green to gray-blue to dark gray. The high temps haven't been less than 90 degrees, in fact it's been in the mid 90s---this hot with falling rain. It's quite a sight to see. Here's a clip from two days ago...taken from our front porch as the rains are moved through with more that followed.

">texas lightening

The beeping, the big green street light with the lightening storm in the background creates an eerie feeling of what a war zone must look like.

Despite the recent on-going storms, my flowers are doing quite well. I still have some to get in the ground.

a big pot of tiny hodgepodge
my first attempt at serrano peppers
more rose moss i need to plant--it's beat up by the rain
mint, annoying weeds, and a new attempt at cilantro (if you can even see it)
one part of my purple heart--it can dominate but requires no care
another pot of something succulent that just grows on it's own each year
wandering jew (a great grand fav)

With a little break, hopefully these will dry out some. Today, the sun is beaming through the thick humidity left behind with the rains. We're inside mostly.

Okay, just as fast as I can get this blog posted, the rains are close by---again! Tornados and hail. Yikes! And it's really hot out. I can't win, but then again, hot rains aren't so bad.

grad school glow, selling & my babes

2009-06-07T19:57:00.047-05:00

Caught off guard
Got it right There's a fascinating truth in the 40 year old spread myth...it may be 30. In any event, mine showed up finally, but only, after I met Gera, three years into fives years ago. I welcome it with straight feel-good...I love to jump up and down and feel jiggle, something I've never had. It feels great to go from petite to hell-yeah, that doesn't fit anymore. That sunburn I posted about earlier is finishing up, only to greet another one. Only today, I tried to enjoy my favorite planet in the shade. I sold quite a bit. One couple came through and wiped out all my old, vintage bottles (one still had a dried dead wasp hung into the bottle lip--you can actually see it in one of the photos). Pretty cool, but I kept those bottles separate from my pretty stuff. Some things I like to sell as I find them. Customers like that.

The first day of graduate school I left with a glow that won't quit...I even took it to work with me this morning---the market. Lots of the lighter reading in between sells (yes, that's my book in my hand in one pic) and brain changing from Spanish to English to Spanish to English (Gera didn't help with confusion between BRAND and BRAIN...when I say "miracle" too quickly, he thinks I'm saying "America"--and then there's the 'burn, born' and something else I can't recall that makes so much sense in it's confusion). I won't start on several ladies asking me about the size of some high heel shoes. They used 'me dida'. I'm accustomed to 'tamano'--both mean size as in shoes. Yeah, in one pic you see shoes, then they're gone. Reasons I work at the flea market: to earn money & to learn more Spanish.

Anyhoo, I am required to teach 3 poems, write 2-2,000 word essays and teach, yes, teach Lolita (the yes is meant for me as I'm sure most have done grad school). This is only the leg work. The first day for me was mostly about listening, until the professor called me read a Yeats poem out loud. Tuesday will be about contributing to the round table of 15. Intimate. Nice. I'm trying to be calm because I love everything about it so far, but I also realize that it's a very serious leap into not only literature, but teaching it (the not so easy part).

And I had my babes this weekend. I gave my FatDaddy a bath, usually I sponge bathe him because he's still a little guy; this weekend, he got the works. His sister helped---that was a task trying to monitor both. He blew bubbles and cooed--never once cried. Of course, Gera, makes him show out more than all.
When Abis slept, Rubi and I did puzzles and we read. Her English is improving, but her teacher says she still won't speak it at school. We're working on that with an understanding that she's in a predominantly Spanish speaking household when she's not with us.

I hope your weekend was a blast!

homework

2009-06-03T00:04:00.032-05:00

well guys, i'll be off for a while...will check blogs from time to time to see what's happening in blogvillage. today is offically my last day of freedom and i'm committed. i hope to post some of the education i discover--i'm such an opened, gaping wound when it comes to learning literature--(at my age now)--especially how to teach it. better. we'll see what i do.

in the meantime, i leave you with a few accidental, daily life of me snaps:

Rubi&me a while ago...check the teeth
the new Texas Stadium for the out of state secret Cowboy loversmy sky, Rubi--Sunday at the flea market
Rubi&my fatdaddy
early morning view from our front door, don't you love our mailbox on the road, the horse paved distance
peace out for now

be back soon...

they scooted me into this educational journey long before i arrived

2009-06-02T22:57:00.027-05:00

Most people have someone or maybe a few someones in their lives who are permanently engraved in their hearts and even their souls...I've been a very fortunate female in my young adult life, as well as my current life to have had and to have three beautiful women who, in different ways, impacted my life and who are special to me in a way that the word loses its natural meaning because the feeling is beyond what the word special could ever convey, three women who touched me while I was a mother, and after my daughter passed.

Before I start this lovely late-in-life marvelous journey of pursuing an even higher level of education, I must give credit to Lori, Shawna and Trace---they have been by my side in ways unimaginable and they have each supported me and loved me unconditionally. I would not be able to begin this next journey without each of them, our pasts and rich histories together, separately. They each know what they have done to give new meaning to what true, real friendship is all about.

they have caught my tears
they have held my hand
they have lifted me in a time when I was a falling spirit
they have taught me so many prospectives in life that
....as a single mother, I could never have seen or experienced
they have never left my side neither for better nor for worse
they cried with me when they didn't feel up to it
they have helped me keep my memories alive by letting me tell my daughter's stories
....over and over and over again and again
they have pushed me softly and loved me even with my flaws
they have listened like a sister
they have been sincere
they have been judge-less
they have always been themselves with me.

Idiosyncrasies and fond memories:

Lori, African American Professional Engineer: I still don't understand how she competes with the big boys in engineering...they've tried to shove and bully her out, but she's still there...stronger than ever...she's an amazing wonder. I love watching her hands when she slices bread or prepares an afternoon lunch in the morning before...the way she stands back on her legs...her mesmerizing smile. She's the one who knows when I sing hardcore love songs (as hard as Teena Marie songs), I'm often singing to or about the nostalgic love for my daughter. She taught me about black American jazz.

Shawna, Taiwanese American Published Author/Educator: I love watching her sop overeasy eggs on a plate and our long talks about writing, love, academia and Taiwan. She likes to grab an elbow to cross a busy street...I love her dearly because I've never heard her criticize another or strike out against another in harsh judging (reminds of my step mom who never ever ever ever speaks negatively or against an individual--I seriously don't think they are normal in this sense)...I love that. I'm grateful to have been a part of her writing process. She taught me how to see a bunch of writing stuff I missed on my own.

Trace, White American Self Assured Legal Assistant: I love the way she says "always" -- so Wisconsin, even though she doesn't know she's saying it with an accent. I love the way she gives herself meticulous pedicures, drinks wine and never ever ever throws away food. She is strikingly beautiful and honest and loves men more than one woman's share. She taught me so much about the male, even when I wasn't in need or looking or desirous. She doesn't cry, ever ever never. It has to be pretty damn significant. She helped me transition from the loss of my daughter to who I am today. Her son is my first real male baby boy and he still is. She watched me struggle through math and statistics to get to UCDavis. She knows me nearly as well as I know myself. She is my blood.

They are the only intimate, close, trustworthy friends I have on this earth, in this life. They are my family. I will never ever be able to repay them, but they don't look...they have sent me on this journey, long before I arrived, with love and well wishes or simply without words...

I can't begin my first day of graduate school tomorrow without saying "thank you" to each of them for the difference they've made in my life...and "i love you each" too...(they know though).

So, enough sap...here's my song picks for them. It took a while and really not long enough because there's too many songs I'd sing to each of them at any given moment:

FOR LORI:

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FOR SHAWNA:

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FOR TRACE:

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I love you guys more than I can ever express...the first one was for Jenn...this one's for yal three. OX

busybody-ing, shop to sell, picture overload of business goodies, first week of studies for an MA in literature

2009-06-01T21:45:00.063-05:00

I had a minor break in work this weekend. So Gera and I hit the road early Saturday morning to go see what we could see...we shop to sell. Usually, we have other means of acquiring stuff for our booth at the flea market, but we wanted to try something different: estate sales.These old cups and saucers were to die for. I could only think of my blogpal ArtSparker---Boy, what she can do to this quiet, conventional collection. I pick up one, then start to swallow and swallow 3, 4, 5 times at the prices...let's just say each set was priced at nearly $20. There were other gorgeous items in the house, stuff I wanted to buy for my mother, but couldn't.

I felt awkward after paying for my purchase and leaving with a dreadful plastic bag of old rags ($2) Gera can use for staining and other woodwork projects, a whatnot, priced within my budget ($1), a set of 3, yes only 3 cool drinking glasses...tried to bargain, but these people where out to make serious dough, no one was laughing or smiling and there was one lady who followed everyone around with a tally book so all you had to do was take your ticket to the counter in the living room and the cashier would ring you up. The drinking glasses were ($5)...I almost backed out at the idea of there only being 3, and finally, Gera got two thin reading lights (really neat) so I can read when he's driving,($3). And that was it. Really, no one was buying anything because everything was priced so so high. When we finally were ready to leave, one of the worker people said, "In a few days, we may do a 50% off. So come back." Yeah right! The may was a bit too iffy and the drive was long.

After the second sale, we decided it's best to stick to the cheap way we get our profitable merchandise...and after finding the same set of rules at another estate sale, we ended that venue and decided to go to two favorite thrift stores.

Then we venture a little farther out and found an antique mall...I had such a difficult time focusing on one thing at a time. See why below:

The prices were not within our budget so my difficulty in focusing became easier. It was still quite a fascinating little place. I came away with a ($2) bag I'll carry one or two books in, two ceramic figurines, ($3) each...I bought one because she is wearing a green dress. Gera purchased a ($7) small wooden sun. That's all! We probably won't go back there...it really is an antique store.

Whatever happens next weekend, we will stick to the impersonal thrift store or yard sale...we will avoid estate sales. Besides, they are pretty sad to be a part of...at least where someone has died. I've only been to a few and I always feel so weird selecting items from lifelong collections, from a private haven. What I don't chose is probably something so extraordinarily special to the deceased and what I do decide to buy, take away, was probably even more of a personal sentiment...creepy creepy crEEpy.

Cheap good stuff I took home from several garage sales:

We had a great day at the flea market---and I stayed under the canopy. But I couldn't avoid direct sun for too long because I love it (again, it has to do with tutoring in an office all day).

Hours before securing a flea market space:

We had to wait in a long line (lots of worthy, good competition)--and yes, unfortunately, that's my hairy leg--when I look at this photo all I can hear is my best friend, Tracy, saying..."ewww, that's fuckin gross!"--we became friends for many reasons, especially for her candor--she holds no prisoners).
I managed to read a little too.

PBoftheMonth June pick

2009-05-30T23:25:00.016-05:00

I hope all had a chance to check out my last month's pick for my Prolific Blog of the Month Award: Ojalá, Selah, Lateda. She is one of those artists whose work--each piece--is so abundant in color...design...independence...and unique style that, as I wrote before...is her own DNA.

My pick for this month is simply dallasclayton.com. I chose this blog because of the style...illustrations--clean short substantive proses...Dallas packs in philosophy, truths, musings in these tiny little verses or poems or chapters...they are phenomenal to read. I like to think of them as being like a daydream...if we could see one...gives words to one.

I posts no work from his blogsite, but you must go take a visit...

Happy May ending, June beginning...

a few three

2009-05-26T22:03:00.020-05:00

...among other greats, these writers changed my life forever...with a simple phrase or jot or ongoing sentence that lasts for pages and pages without pause:

William Faulkner
Edwidge Danticat
Gabriel García Márquez

work, sun, mi chistoso, no identity crisis by any stretch and a forthcoming mother's day

2009-05-25T14:00:00.053-05:00

i wish i could post a picture of my shoulders and forehead...they're pretty burnt from last week's flea market 8.00 a to 6.00 p sell; we forgot our tent. i could have purchased a hat to cover myself, but i'm a little frugal these days...so i roughed it...

i'm just now on the healing end of a very very very very very bad sun burn: mainly forehead and nose. one of my co-workers (before i took a sick day or two afterwards and was...at this time...very red--indian red folks, seriously) said, "Forgive me for my ignorance, but I didn't know African-Americans could sun burn." Bless her heart (and i really didn't believe her disclaimer or her person to make it and anyone who is in the education industry should really know, by now 2009, Af-Am Hist--i mean really...light-skinned Af-Ams capable of sun burns is an old long drawn out overworked, boring overkill truth). i said (anyway) "when you're as light-skinned as an African-American as i am, you burn!" I said it as boiler plated, sapped out language.

on an honest note of curiosities...my hair a dead give-away...among other characteristics...against my skin can be quite confusing (i'm learning even for Hispanic culture ((who have legitimate reason to wonder)) who think i'm either puerto rican, brazilian, even i've been guessed at being dominican, and some other ians which I find a real, fresh opening)...I swore back in my dreadlock days, love but no regrets I'd never go straight again---ever---and embrace my nappiness an old post yikes!, but lately, the fight between my hair and the comb (the brush is more passive but can be likened to...the doctor in the movie Overboard...at times), makes me want to perm perm perm what i didn't do here. this is a little work with an a-natu'ral. but that's another story....anyway....tangents are what i teach my students not to do in their essays...luckily...i'm a good authority and rather safe here going away...against my own advice. anyway

the love of my life who, by now, in the years of our relationship knows what happens to my skin when I've been in the sun, uncovered for way too long (see again hours above)...it peels. well he decides (four days into my sun burn when my skin starts to peel and the discoloration is so obvious...a light beautiful brown peeling away to reveal a soft nutmeg-milky color) to laugh at my peeling skin and asks (on the cusp of a sun burn early morning wake up), looking not into my eyes, but directly (with those glistening green-gray eyes of his) at my forehead, in near perfect English, "Honey, you need tape?" and he smiles and touches my forehead...the image that came to my mind (too much cable t.v.) in this case was Nicole Kidman's Invasion--so not funny!

then a day to two later he grabbed my forehead closely and said, "Let me see this map"...in the latter, the only image that came to my mind (immediately) was "nikolai gorbatschov" remember him?

my skin is nearly healed and i'm almost back to normal...next Sunday, given no rain, we will not forget the tent nor will i forget my cachucha...my damn hat!

my daughter, so beautifully brown-brown, pine cone brown, never had to worry about this...it's a soul's deliverance how everything i don't have, she did....

i hope your weekend back to work, or not, or whatever your Tuesday is all about brings thoughtfulness...

an angel for your upcoming June

2009-05-24T19:19:00.028-05:00

...

well, guys...next month my daughter would have been 27 years old...part of the beauty in celebrating her life is having to juggle between my 14 years of experiencing her against my having to imagine what she would be like today...

i still haven't been able to get my California family to take then send me pictures of her gravesite...(but i've only asked once)... my family there is busy with their own lives...hopefully Gera and i can travel back by end of year or early next Spring...if not, i do understand, too well, that she's with me every day...gravesites are beautiful markers, but the spirit is even more a remarkable experience...

she's buried in a tiny little, pretty little, private little cemetery in Fair Oaks, California. if you're visiting Fair Oaks any time soon...and have a fondness for cemeteries, it's located down Winding Way at the corners of New York Avenue and Olive Street...

her epitaph reads: 'and heaven smiled again'

also:

for June...I'm thinking of my next Prolific Blog of the Month award pick...it's 'hard' :* to choose one, but thank goodness there are months to come....

hope your weekend is full of deluxe...we're hibernating (Gera is busy in his workshop and i'm lost in reading)....it's 80 degree weather and yet yet yet more warm rains...

and finally:

Happy Memorial Day to my two Dads who both served in the Vietnam War (the one living and the one deceased--you are both equally 'me')...and to *all* dads, brothers, sons, and women around the world who have served and who serve their countries...in honesty, i hope someday Memorial Day will cease to exist...wouldn't that be something?

found it!

2009-05-20T20:07:00.012-05:00

Quick post.

This is a picture of my rose moss I referred to earlier. There's a little begonia in there too (another great grand favoriate)--and there's some other flowers too. The flower box is one I still have, one Gera made in seconds for me...with water resistant wood. It's now full with purple heart (this flower is one you can't really kill either and it.too.comes back every year no matter what). I did manage to get my new rose moss in the ground. We'll see what happens...I also planted some leftover, dried serrano pepper seeds. I'm curious about these too, even more so because I've never grown them...and it's kinda the beginning of my beginning to be a veggie gardner...yeah, right! We'll see about this too.

oh dear!

2009-05-19T23:20:00.018-05:00

My first graduate class is titled "Literary Pedagogy" -- teaching Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita...

I'm touched mostly by Nabokov's own words in this interview: "sob in the spine of the artist reader"..."negligible generalities"...and "i don't wish to touch hearts"...

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It's so obvious that interviews...onlookers who we like to appreciate our literature...to talk about our work...that we find pride in the examination and on-trial nature of our work...make us the most uncomfortable...because the work, mostly the artist, is put in the light...

I've read Lolita only once before...as a younger woman.

How lucky am I to be required to study it now....to read it again...

what happened to logic in 'all fairness'?

2009-05-19T08:54:00.032-05:00

Gera and I went to Whole Foods yesterday because I wanted some fresh organic blueberries, a nice sized salmon fillet and tea tree oil for my hair. I bought three items for a total of $morethan30dollars. The blueberries I just couldn't see the reason, but you can best be sure we will savor every single berry. Usually I make a fruit salad, but not with these berries. We're going to eat them singly to get the full benefit of taste, dollar and all.

We weren't the only shoppers with just a few items. The price of organic products is sky high. My question is if the country promotes eating more healthy, why has organic products jumped so high in price? It keeps less fortunate people from eating better (hell, at times, I feel less fortunate in Whole Foods). How did eating organic become an expensive trend and why is it an expensive trend? Poor people need access to healthier eating and to be able to afford organic foods, but organic has become so specialized and even uppity. I just realized yesterday that only those who can afford to buy organic have the privilege to eat healthier.

Something is wrong: the prices of healthier foods have gone up and the price of fatty foods are cheaper. Wouldn't it make better sense to jack up the prices of fast foods--make the prices so high that this kind of eating would be challenging to the pocket book...lower healthy organic food prices so that people would have to buy better foods for cheaper? And anyway, isn't it cheaper to grow organic foods...what...with all the costs for pesticides?

But then, maybe it's a ploy to keep the medical industry booming...

We've got to either frequent the local farmer's markets from now on or I need to take a gardening class...even still, the blueberries were heaven and I don't think I'd be able to compete....

believe it!

2009-05-18T09:46:00.011-05:00

...

Seriously, this was a reward notice that was posted in some parts of town. I don't which is worse...this or no handwashing...all for $10.00.

rose moss

2009-05-16T11:52:00.017-05:00

...

Pictures borrowed from the Internet

This is one of the many flowers I remember most outside my great grandmother's house. She planted it--oddly--in the cracks of a cement walk-way that leads to her front door. Every year this flower bloomed without her having to replant it. It just simply showed up in mid to late spring, creating a bouquet of color we'd have to step around or walk over. It mostly blooms in warm humid, tropical-like weather. It's pretty tenacious and comes in a beautiful variety of colors. My favorite is the coral and deep oranges. My gr. grand tended to favor the reds and purples--the latter was sometimes a rare. The leaves are succulent--probably why rose moss blooms best in a humid climate. My Auntie pinches the dry leaves and puts them back into the soil. This may be why it comes back each year. I'm not sure.

I've had it before and it did well, but I've switched pots and uprooted plants, replanted plants, we've since taken out a huge dead tree stump I planted flowers in, including the rose moss---so I've had to purchase it again (unlike Dear), but I can't plant today. It's raining, yet again against a warm climate.

This is what Wiki had to say
Another Wiki take on Rose Moss

finally!

2009-05-15T12:00:00.020-05:00

...
The college Writing Center is like magic...quiet! It's so amazing to come into work and do other things besides tutor and read essays all day long...I love my job, but I indulge the "engaged to wait" time as well. Hopefully, after updating WC fliers, listings of summer hours and workshops, hiring another full-tutor for Fall, an new on-call for summer, I'll get a better head start on my own classwork. I still can't believe I'm starting graduate classes in 3 weeks. I'm so looking forward to it! But for now, the weekend, the quiet time belongs to me...only...I'm even finding a moment to blog this...

My TO DO list for the weekend?

Wash clothes
Wash our van
Cook...a little*
Visit Mom and Auntie
Plant lots of rose moss
Prepare items to sell at flea market/if it doesn't rain
Go garage sale/thrift store shopping
Drink Red wine*
Read
Read
Read
Blog a little
Give Gera a haircut
Watch "The Village" and "The Visitor" - recommended by co-worker
Read*
Read
Read
Blog a little
Have more Red Wine*
Order a Pizza
Nap
Repeat*

Happy Weekend to all...How will you spend it?

lazy-good inspired

2009-05-12T15:10:00.033-05:00

...
Inspired by all the amazing artists I have met blogging...I find myself drawn even closer to art--old and new--I found these pics I took of a book from my personal library. I gave it away as a gift last year. These were a few works of many that were so moving to me.
This one is my favorite. Reminds me of Bacchus. Could be.
Gera has family that look like this guy. So beautiful. The tone in skin and eyes, the frown...wow.
I should have copied the names and respective art titles; my 44 year old eyes strain to see the text. If you know the artists, titles...let us in on them.
Gera is working on something I don't have a clue what it will be, but I'm excited. Hopefully, he'll let me post it when it's completed.

Without artists, the universe would be a blank void....a spinning in nothing...

ignited

2009-05-11T18:27:00.065-05:00

...

Two events: today and this weekend baffled the hell out of me, and ignited bad feelings

First

At the college where I've been employed for a good while, there's either been a change in mentality or a trend in stupidity. Twice last month, a decent stretch of days in between, I'd walk into the ladies' room and the water would be running in one of about five different sinks...the first time I thought oops, someone forgot to turn off the water. The second time, I thought oops a student was probably in a hurry for a test or a ride a home. Today, I walk into a stall and another (of about 8 or 10) was occupied. As I'm finishing a cup of coffee and a days' worth of bottled water...the one person in the occupied stall walks out. I hear the water turn on. I think oh good, this person is washing her hands...a relief from what I and a janitor witnessed a week ago...another story not worth telling...but EARL!

Then, I hear the hard-heeled shoes stamp out, but I also hear the water still running...my senses tell me 1. the person is gone and 2. she left the water running. By this time, I'm out of the stall and I see what I felt. I stand dismayed and mad and appalled and dumbfounded. I apologized to Earth and the State of California. I leave it running (which makes me even more indignant) and walk to the door to see who the ungrateful earth murderer is...I look left, there's a lady marching around the end of a hallway...I look right, there's a student purchasing a scan tron out of a vending machine. I decide to let it go, but I wanted to say "Hey, mamm...hey...you forgot the running water! You dizzy wench!"

If she doesn't want to touch the facet keys, just grab a paper towel and turn them off. Can you imagine if more than one person does this...water just running, wasting down the sink. I was so mad and then I remembered...that's that part of your Texas you loathe...remember?

Second

We live in a rural part of Fort Worth. This past weekend, we were preoccupied with our niece and nephew. In the quiet of the evening, we suddenly hear a male voice and loud cries from a horse, not neighing, but cries...I go out to the porch. I see a fat, sturdy drunk male on top of a horse, kicking deep into its sides yelling, "You do as I say...when I say...like I say...[kick, stab, kick, whip] you heh? Get yo ass over heh! [whip, kick, whip, kick, kick, kick] As I say...I'mo teach you...As I say!" It went on more than one can imagine...I was in disbelief...angry...I wanted to call someone...the police...is there such a thing as animal abuse police? Later, I told Gera, "That's the kind of motherfucker who beats the hell out of a woman." He looks at me and says, "You don't know that." I said, "My grandmother taught me how to recognize that kind."

I loved reading Lawrence's Women in Love during undergrad, but the horse whippings...I remember having to seek, deeply, with extra effort the art...there.

vein, red thread, hot bath, reading, the goodness of life

2009-05-10T12:59:00.032-05:00

...my life wouldn't be as much of an adventure as it has been, is, and will continue to be as long as I have breath-----if it weren't for my mother, Helen, for giving birth to me...for being who she is...for being my best, most accurate companion from beginning til today...

Couldn't help but post this classic pic again:
me&jenn 1984 sitting outside my great Auntie's house

I remember my daughter and I celebrated Mother's Day in June. Rarely did we celebrate on the traditional day in May. And even then, usually, we went to church.

But oddly, in June, is when my daughter would acknowledge me as a mother. She'd hand me a handmade Mother's Day card and say, "This is for you Mom. Happy Mother's Day!" and give me flowers of many colors (construction paper cutouts, later, jr. high, real flowers--all the same).

Why in June? (I wondered the first time too).

Her logic: "Because technically, you became a mother on my birthday."

The first time she did this, I wondered how in the world she came up with this idea...I never asked her...on purpose.

******

The babies are gone and we are cleaning, watching cable...in between...gera is preparing a nice late lunch...

Rubi was great...even better after pizza and the movie hotel for dogs, games for kids on the computer and two storybooks I read to her... Abis was a charm...he cried a little after his young father and grandpa (Gera's brother) dropped them off--yesterday. Gera's oldest brother was here. Abis had hiccups and that made him mad, but Alex (big uncle) said to put a tiny ball (wet with mouth) of red sewing thread at the center of his forehead and it will take the hiccups away. It worked. And I thought my culture was traditionally strange with all the midwives' tales...

Haven't seen Cierra yet, but hope to later. She's with mom and grandmom who just flew in from Maryland on Saturday.

*******
I will see my own mother and great Auntie before evening falls...they're just happy in general: lottery tickets to play, mundane of the day...easy
*******

The greatest Mother's Day gift besides spending time with my own mother will be...a good hot bath...the last few letters of my current Nabokov read...and picking some other books to post...this time from my personal library.

Life is an imaginable gift...it feels great when there are these moments you just want to burst into everlasting because the happiness is so great, in such variety, and feels so infinite....

I hope you are enjoying your Mother's Day and doing something out of the blue...

other masterpieces from my PBofMay artist

2009-05-09T09:42:00.019-05:00

wise

***

clique

***

routine

See More Here

published with permission

giving them back

2009-05-08T11:03:00.065-05:00

Mother's Day for me will be well spent. I will have Rubi and Abis for sure on Sunday, and will see Cierra for a tad. Unfortunately, these pics are all old--by just a few months in Abis and Cierra's case.

Rubi, the love of my life...I remember when she was fat-thighed almost toddling around in a fluffy pamper. I'd wake up with a crook in my neck from sleeping between her and Gera. God that was a crunch.

Rubi is now missing teeth, way different from this photo I took a while ago. She's taller and thin. She has words for her Uncle Gera all the time. She's learned to reason and negotiate. She uses our computer (pbskids.com and Nick), sometimes, way way past her bedtime. We pretty much give her whatever she wants as long as it's within our means. But Gera still loses to her when they bicker...she might become a lawyer...
***

This is my new baby, Abis who is so adorable and who is a good good good baby. Rarely cries as long as his panal is changed, has a full stomach, and is not sleepy. He rarely completes a good yawn, every now and then he squints, sticks out his tiny little tongue and gets it good.

He is now almost 3 months old and he smacks his mouth and flails, trying to coo. He is so different than my girls and is secretly my favorite (in baby stage). He rarely wakes in the night; I have to wake him to change him and feed him a bottle. He's so easy. Gera kisses him all the time and I have to remind him of his prickliness. He is so good with the baby, but quickly hands him back to me when Abis gets fussy.
***

This is Cierra, my sister's 40th birthday present...she was a crier, oh god! in the beginning, but is now a calm happy little thing. She's going to be a beautiful model some day.

Cierra is now a 7 month old beauty. She recently fell off the bed while my sister was in the bathroom applying make-up. I assured her it's normal; it happens. She's sitting up and even bouncing around in a walker. A little fever as teeth are on their way. I only get to see her on Wednesdays, but I secretly spoil her. I never put her down and we play in her toy box til way way late. When mom comes home, Cierra is worn out!
***

And after keeping them all, especially the baby (who is so good, can't say it enough, so good), Gera and I look at each other moments after the front door closes, our niece and her boyfriend have driven away, and say...wow!...just think we were trying to procreate.... we love it, but we really love giving them all back to their parents and going back to our normal two-party personed household.

This all reminds me of when my Big used to say, "You'd better do it now or you're going to be too set in your ways..."--I'm so there.

HAPPY WEEKEND and HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL... Cheers!

letter from a seamstress II

2009-05-06T16:58:00.022-05:00

One of my favorite things to do when I feel nostalgic for my past loved ones is look back...at more than just their photos. I love that my grandmother (Big) accomplished the dream of buying a home--on her own--job title: seamstress--a story I've told a trillion times, but keep telling and yet--she had little education. It shows in this beautiful letter written to my daughter when we were in California. Without us, she was never the same. But she sent a little money always so my daughter could buy a toy and a 'book'...I don't know why I find her use of "jirl" to mean "girl" so precious, an omnipotent endeavor.

I never knew her to write much, aside from paying bills and oh my! I never knew she would attempt to draw. But as indicated by the first lines, phrases...she loved my daughter so much, that just maybe it was a moment of feeling, emotion, impression, longing, connection...when she,too, was so severely nostalgic...

Mother's Day is around the corner...I feel so good, and BTW...there should be a Grandmother's Day too...someday I will tell her story...it's a doozer...thus, my new moniker

honeysuckle, nopalis, kids

2009-05-02T21:56:00.048-05:00

...

Today, it rained and rained and rained in our part of northern Texas. Before this, the sweet aroma of yellow and white honeysuckle swelled through humidity, the warm air. Wisteria has come and nearly gone, already? I've taught the kids down the street and my five year old niece, Rubi, how to separate a suckle to find the purest of sweet juice. It wasn't long though before they lost interest. Too much precision involved, and the tiny little pinhead dot of juice after they pulled out the stem wasn't worth their focus.

A miniature deep velvety red rose bush Gera and I uprooted from the side of our house and replanted one Mother's Day (in honor of his mother and my daughter) is blooming with madness. It's been in its new place for ... 3 of the 5 years we've lived in our home and is a beautiful reminder. When the rain stops, I hope to plant my great grandmother's favorite: rose moss. It's so low maintenance and so beautiful in the variety of colors.

So, we're simply enjoying the rains and staying in. I'm finishing up some great books, red wine, Gera made nopalis with vegetables and a little red meat.

We've watched several old movies in Spanish. I even napped for an hour...could have went for two, but my mother came by to pick up some items I bought for her to list on her ebay store. God knows she's where I get my "easy to please" gene. She brought me fresh, near red-orange sweet potatoes. She's such a beautiful presence to encounter at any time.

Tomorrow, we're supposed to have yet more rain and more tornado watches, floods, and all that...and this will be good. I'm staying in to babysit my ever-so cute little 2month old nephew, Abis and his sister, my love, Rubi. This Wednesday I'll have Cierra, my sister's 7 month old. Looking forward to it. No shortage of babies, and the funny thing is after spending a day or two with any of them, I'm pooped. I've come to the realization that I'm grandmother material. I'm getting a good fill with the nieces and new nephew.

Our weekend has been peaceful and dreamy, I hope yours is lively and well...you probably have lots of sun wherever you are...

past-time

2009-05-01T16:35:00.017-05:00

A few ways I used to indulge in the benefits of being Californian.

WTF? -- a celeb gab

2009-04-25T11:09:00.041-05:00

. . .

ad·mi·ra·tion
Pronunciation: \ˌad-mə-ˈrā-shən\
Function: noun
Date: 15th century
1archaic : wonder
2: an object of esteem
3: delighted or astonished approbation

Admiration is what I used to have for Beyoncé. I even named myself, Flawsnall, from one of my favorite songs by her. But, the skim over my eyes and admiration lifted quickly as of yesterday when I learned that she wears a $5 million dollar ring...no envy here folks, trust me, if I had $5 million, I certainly would not sport it in one setting (no puns). It's a skillet, but seriously...$5 million for one ring? What's the point, the statement? Is that where the core of her and JZ's love resides...behind a rocket-sized diamond? Gera makes me furniture, from scratch, hecho de mano (handmade) when he wants to show me a little material heartwork...again, no envy here...only grand disbelief...and no worries, I'm so clear there's the difference: celeb life vs. a teacher and carpenter's life...and in all honesty, Jesus was all three of these roles...but...wow...

Unless something changes and she decides to donate the boulder to a worthy cause, my respect for the want-to-be "legend" slash "icon" as she put it one time on the Larry King show ... is so way gone. I just don't see how she could wear something like that, today, in2009, worth that much money when there are so many children in the world, today in2009, who are starving to death or need love or, today in2009, need severe unaffordable medical attention.

Maybe this is why Angelina Jolie has always been an interest to me...over all...she's a real class act if there ever was one...

I might have to change my blog profile name...thinking about it...

prolific blog for 09May

2009-04-23T11:58:00.060-05:00

What is color supposed to do?

Pretend
...
I've met some interesting, unique, talented people via blogging. And I've found myself immersed in a company of artists more so than the genre I passion: writing, literature, blogs like lilaphase that take everyday, ordinary events in life and make them fodder for all. So I decided to recognize my own favs. I'm launching my own "prolific blog" of a month.

I have to start with a serious bang...my first pick is Ojalá, Selah, Lateda. This artwork gives me chills. I've never seen color so braided, so taken advantage of, and used for what color means, pushed to unforgettable limits, and mythical like...Jennifer Long de Herrera's hand. She does something with eyes so captivating that every subject feels like, to me, a very very old soul...alive. Color is elaborate, but so precise, detailed, taken with care. Her work is definitely her DNA.

These are some of my favorite pieces of her work. The work titled Opinion leaves me near devastated because it's so profound...then I waver and sometimes pick another and then go back to Opinion. I finally settled---it's so difficult to choose one---really I can't.

For sure, the work titled Late will be me as of June 3 when graduate classes begin....it will be an inspiration.

Opinion
Similar
Clandestine Truth
Resolve
Contained
Intricate
Late

Check out her Etsy store here: WOW! and the best of a happy weekend!

seriously welled up

2009-04-21T09:52:00.007-05:00

i'm so proud i can't speak

Readings start this week.
Tuesday, 4 pm: Orinda Books, Orinda.
Wednesday, 7:30 pm: The Booksmith, San Francisco
Friday, 7:30 pm: Mrs. Dalloway's, Berkeley.

what did you do yesterday?

2009-04-18T22:23:00.015-05:00

I went to my great aunt's house. Listened to her never-ending curse words (Texas Governor Rick Perry is not popular in her single household). It's amazing to me how retired people spend their time.

The way my aunt spends her retirement is super curious to me...it's pretty fascinating: casinos...cooking...news...soaps...public notary work...talking on the phone...telling my mom what to do to stop smoking...more cursing...Texas Rangers...casinos...Dallas Cowboys...casinos...Mavericks...doc appointment...more cursing...more talking on the phone...cursing again...eating...socializing with neighbors on the front porch...grocery shopping...rubbing salve...and...yet more talking on the phone... and then I remember she's 80 years old about to be 81 and retired at 62 with only a 9th grade education.

She always sends me away with food, lots of food!!!!

The best part about visiting my great aunt is coming home and diving into her mustards..............without hearing her curse words!

not fire...writing sky

2009-04-18T21:26:00.031-05:00

. . .

nope, this ain't a fire
it's Texas skies threatening earth-murdering power lines
bossing trees and almighty gas signage
frightening shoppers back to their homes

. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .

three months ago...or so...it was literally writing lines of it's own zillion'th story

!goodness gracious!

2009-04-17T18:40:00.038-05:00

. . .

Been off for a tad. Gera and I were doing last minute tax prep and mailing---HIS! The sad part is he had to pay $93.00. And my long time free-at-the-library-tax-preparer (wish I could adopt him as my grandpa) said, "Well, I gotta say, if Gerardo doesn't boost his carpenter/vendor income within the next year or two, the Government's gonna label his work mere hobby." We thought it was funny at first, but have thought about it every since...two days ago...and now find it serious.

Luckily, it's not too difficult to find people who want work done to their homes, new cabinets built from scratch for their kitchens, or tile floors. The stairs were a rare request. We hope to pushpushpush for something like this again and PR it to the max. The aquarium is coming along fine, but we're selling it at the market...we guess that counts. The most important lesson we learned this tax season about being self-employed...we realized artwork is limited where claiming income is concerned. It's so not fair...

my easter love

2009-04-12T21:14:00.034-05:00

Today, Easter Sunday, Gera and I spent half of it doing our thing. We slept in, ate fried eggs on fresh made tostados with salsa, cream, fresco cheese, jasmin rice, and refried beans. I felt slightly domestic and made a fantastic citrus salad. Not my concoction. A week ago, I sat in Barnes&Noble to pass time, and I literally copied this fabulous recipe from a great magazine. Of late, I'm too frugal to buy magazines.

2 Tbsp fresh lime juice
2 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
2 Tsp honey
1 minced zest of lime
Kosher salt---to taste
3 cups fresh ruby red grapefruit wedges, peeled
3 cups fresh orange wedges, peeled
(If you want to save time, use canned, but be sure to drain)
2 Tbsp thinly sliced fresh basil and sprigs
____________

Whisk lime juice
Olive oil honey salt and lime zest
Combine citrus segments
Toss with juice
Serve with basil and sprigs

Yeah, we were full...at least until late-late afternoon.

Then, we went to see my precious little sky, my vida...my Ruby.

She was so happy and was late getting a start for Easter day...too. But I told her, "Esta bien Mami. El conejo esta esperando para ti." She's always ready to go with Gera and me...we stole her for the day, even though we were somewhat limited by the rains. In the end, we ate more...Chuckie Cheese pizza. Tokens and gaming. She's never forgotten that place since the first time we took her 3 years ago.

Only now, she can say, enunciate clearly: CHUCK E CHEESE. And this time, I don't think it was 'the world' to her as it was the first time. A sign...we're aging and so is she. We are bracing ourselves for a Quinceañera; we only have about ten years left...yikes!

hot off the press

2009-04-11T10:45:00.048-05:00

Alas, my very own--HOT OFF THE PRESS--copy of my friend, Shawna Yang Ryan's book. Water Ghosts hit the stores this month and is already causing a mighty stir. Check it out When I first opened my package (all smiles), I took out Water Ghosts ...instinctively, I could not help but smell it, open it, stare at it, rub it, hug it, kiss it, and re-read some of my favorite passages. Even the jacket tells part of the story and is so very well done. I'm so looking forward to starting from the beginning, again, to the end. I have so much pride!

Then, later that night, I discovered someone had moved my book. It was where I had left it, but not in the position I placed it. So, I stepped out of the room for a minute, peeked in through an archway Gera built--it leads into the room, but sometimes we cover it with a sheer curtain. Lo and behold, there was a presence there either trying to steal my book or communicate with the ghosts in it. When I pulled the curtain...it fled.

Water Ghosts is just that good!

a non-fiction day & night

2009-04-07T21:28:00.020-05:00

...

Today was incredible-raw. Incredible because...first...I'm enrolled, signed up and ready to plunge...into...my first graduate class ever! Which....actually starts in June. Lovin it! The best news today was that I *will* teach developmental English courses in the Fall---learning this news broke my heart---I'm so happy.

Littlebig blessings unfold in unexpected ways.

And...fortunately, I will work with a great instructional crew....the peops I've worked with for five years now. A feel good day.

And then...

I went to work tonight at the library and we've always got some event going on...last week it was the Hat-titude even (a celebration of women, with an emphasis on hats)---lots of beautiful mature models with beautiful queen-like, birds-flying-like...hats. Tonight, there was a water color art exhibit...a piano...lemon cookies...and wine. I never went upstairs...no need to because the gallery winds down a grand stairwell into reference and periodicals--open--where, tonight, all librarians happily or normally worked around the event. Alas everyone was gone except an elderly couple who danced, but the pianist must have had to leave...the music stops, the laughter, the pouring of wine and spirits, the chatter---all gone.

Raw: a homeless guy who frequents the library every other day if not every. I've only worked there for 6 or 7 months and there are those you just know. Just as we were closing (I made the announcements in both English and Spanish)...the piano upstairs blares out like a million trills from only song birds...like nothing we had heard before when the party was in full force with drab, skippy, soft tunes. I immediately knew it was not the probable high paid pianist who played during the event. This was so different. I thought it was an employee with a secret gift other than a love for information and books...another librarian said "that's not the same"---and another merely said, "it's time to go; who's playing on the piano?" But I was taken away and I must say the former librarian was too. He ran upstairs following the latter to see the mystery music-genius. I of course had to wait, go get my purse, log off the desk computer and complete final loose ends of a work night.

The musician was Steve, one of our long time (before my time) homeless guys banging away...I was floored and it showed on my face. A different, prospective librarian student said, "Something is wrong with America."

I was moved like never before and really had to think about movies this has happened in. Still can't think of any because I'm still in awe. Maybe something *is* wrong with America or maybe Steve decided to give up a lot of something for a more simple, harsh-happy way of living...who knows. Today, reminded me that it's too bad I have to leave the ocean of information, a sea of stories. The lieless and the non-fiction oddities in time I will no longer experience.

summer prep: study & hunt

2009-03-31T14:41:00.023-05:00

I am starting graduate school in five weeks. Instead of taking Shakespeare, I'm opting for Literary Pedagogy with a focus on teaching Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita. The great part about the summer, for community college employees, is we have Fridays off and this time will of course mean, for me, study and hunt time.

However, the highlight of planning my summertime is getting back to selling at the flea market. Gera has already started and I can't wait to sell under the sun (under our tent no doubt).

The real secret is to get back out there to watch 'my stuff'. I mean, now, I price it all and he does his best to get the most for it, but in all honesty, I get an even better price for it. We gripe at each other because I treat my stuff like it's gold and my table always looks pretty, very feminine, like a space right out of an antique store, while his side is just...there. It's definitely a guy side: lawnmowers, tools, boots, weed eaters, basket ball hoops, more yard stuff, VHS movies, radios, wooden tables (we usually pick these up from the rich houses, their trash--our profit, especially after Gera sands and refinishes them), clay pots, and other non-cute items. I just look at him and "My stuff's hot!"

I mean look at these beauties...but he only thinks of my table as having it's place, but not redflag revenue important. I admit, he usually rakes in more dough than I do. We put it all together in the end though and I remind him that without my knick-knacks, our profit would fall ever short.

This past weekend, he did manage to sell one of my favorite pieces: a boxed 1980s Elvis Presley, unopened decanter with real liquor, seal unbroken. I told him, "Honey, DO NOT sell this for less than $50.00." He actually got $55 for it! He's learning, but I still need to manage and oversee the preciousness of my merchandise. A summer ain't a summer without the hustle of selling. I'm so ready!!

mean people

2009-03-28T11:37:00.024-05:00

...

Here's a piece of library entertainment for you. A patron, who published her 'phobic-woes' throughout the city, wrote this awfully mean letter in response to homeless people who frequent the library consistently.

Library Manager: Today I found several of these “fliers” posted on mailboxes, newsstands, etc., on Third Street – not on our building, but just to the east. The ever-so-eloquently-conveyed sentiments seem to be in line with those recently expressed by a concerned patron, J.S. This is just a suspicion; I have no proof. But for those of you who know her, please keep an eye on her and remain alert.

When will selfish people like this one realize the sun is for everyone, the sky belongs to all, the library is a public service facility opened to everyone---not just for snobs like this person. Luckily, we were informed to watch out for her to make sure *she* doesn't try something stupid. Can you believe it? Where do people get these kinds of nerves? I'm curious to learn how she would determine who's homeless and who's not. Ug! There's just so many things wrong with this request.

from jessi's album

2009-03-27T10:28:00.031-05:00

When I look back at old pictures of myself with my siblings (only two sibs and me shown here), I think about my father, a man with three sets of children. He was able to see all grow into fine young people. How lucky he was...I was the only wedlock, proudly so. And his oldest...

people talking at Jessi's wedding

part of my Dad's rainbow crew

a little dance and mingle

Oh, but really I posted this to say, the best shoes sell in California!

the sky thing again

2009-03-26T11:59:00.017-05:00

This week the sky 'showed out'...opened up and poured and poured and poured. The rains, here, this time of year are so warm. I love the build up of the humidity and even though Texas is flat and one of the few biggest cow states, it feels pretty tropical during springtime.

Hopefully, after the flood of students and busy work week, I will be able to photograph and give yal a little part of Texas spring, my style.

In any event, I told Gera he's trying to qualify for a post on The Big Storm. The only thing is he didn't get in our van and chase the clouds or follow winds before the rains hit.

The black and white in these is too prominent, scary looking. Yet we were childish enough to stare for shapes. We found quite a few.

the complete mural

2009-03-26T11:51:00.007-05:00

. . .

Of course murals in Texas would be incomplete, useless, without a longhorn work. I like this one because...in person...the longhorns really do appear to be running down a street, out of a wall.

parts of a mural

2009-03-20T19:42:00.066-05:00

. . .

These pictures are from a restaurant Gera and I like to frequent. In English it's called Little Frogs. I took these just before Gera and I were headed back to the hospital to see Isra.

The greatest times about being home is re-visiting well-known areas. More interesting is looking at the spaces where I grew up, how they have evolved--. Many times Gera and I will be somewhere and someone from either of Latino origin or black origin, usually a girl/ or woman, young or mature, will ask me: "De dondo eres?" or "Where you from?"

Last night when Gera, his sister and I were shopping in Fiesta Food Store, a young black woman who checked us out---and who dropped our tostados twice--maybe it would have been a third time had I not said, "Girl! You break'in our tostados"---said (mind you, not asked): "You black--.--?--" I said "Yeah." She said, "You speak Spanish?" I said "Yeah." She said, "But you mixed? How you learn it?" I said, "In middle and high school." In the meantime, Gera's sister who neither speaks nor understands English was looking at Gera and me because you see, faces can be read---I love the beauty in countenance---faces. Even if a person never says a word, usually their faces will say the world. Will reveal their feelings at heart. Gera of course is bagging our mayo, lettuce, peppers, avocado, cilantro, onion, garlic, tuna, sweet bread and some other stuff we grabbed, and smiling. Again. Then she said, "But you mixed?" I said, "No. I'm black." She said, "Dang" then paid out change to Gera's sister who couldn't help but ask before we made it to our van. "Que digo?" What did she say...

Gera and I mildly laughed because this happens often when we're out, predominantly in Hispanic or African American environments. I've been a curiosity, seen as Puerto Rican, Dominican, even Brazilian (i'm always reminded of my mother when this happens-she, who let me be and who refused to set me on the porch, put me in sun to 'brownin' me). For the most, my culture knows who's who, but of late (the newagers) are really uncertain because there is such an 'of late' mix of races. Really, I don't have a right to say 'of late' because there are those who are really directly mixed and who come way before my time: Booker, Douglass, Berry, Obama, Keys. The funny thing about the two formers is I never saw them as mixed, only as black. Now when I look at their photos, specifically, I look for hints of white. I always see, however, in past and present how beautiful and strong willed they each were. Really amazing figures in our American history.

When I was growing up, there was never a doubt, and Zora wrote about it best: if there is ever a doubt, look at the hair (although I love now that in today's presence there's really not any distinction, any telling...and *it is* rather mainly fun for me, smilingly so, because *I am*--my color--is a product of African and white French history. But, my daughter's complexion told the real truth about my origins, my soul.

I must say Gera and I do have a good time with the inquiries, and I always take note...for possible poetry, writings, LMF entries. And I always hope that my culture's young people learn to learn other languages. There so much possibility and opened windows in doing so.

Other than living up to the theme in the name of the restaurant, I wonder why the artist chose to paint the people's faces green? Of all colors...why green?

Water Ghosts by Shawna Yang Ryan

2009-03-14T10:33:00.036-05:00

. . .

April 2009

I cannot be any more fortunate than I already am to have not only a best friend who is the world to me, but a best friend who is a writer and with whom I had the pleasure to 'college with.' If you do one thing this spring/summer, it must be to read Water Ghosts. This book will set a third vision into your perspective about American history, love, loss, and that thing we now know of called 'living in the margins.' In a subtle yet powerful approach, Shawna has introduced a pure setting, and what I mean by 'pure' is the little California nook of a town called Locke--as a subject setting, it was practically a virgin one. Whereas it was difficult to imagine early 20th century Locke, what it must have been like, Water Ghosts creates a fine, crisp image. Along with a fluent imagination and a careful, sensitive look at Delta history, Shawna gives us a small, untouched place, rich with great story-telling. She unfolds Water Ghosts into a tiny little masterpiece that leaves one with a deep, curious nostalgia about 'a' future, in the end.

What is the story about? Penguin best announces and describes its new literary gem.

Penguin's synopsis of Water Ghosts

It gives me so much delight to be able to recommend this beautifully, brilliantly written contribution to America's canon. And I am so proud to see my friend grow as a writer--even more, I am elated to see her cling to her dream--the same one she often spoke of 'back when'...it's really happening, Ryan!

For upcoming readings and book tour announcements, The SF Chronicle gives a list. For a more personal look, you can get the scoop and details at Stone, Ink, Brush and Paper.

I hope all of my SF/Bay Area/Sacramento/Davis peops and my new blog friends, buy Water Ghosts AND attend one of the readings....the experience is yours to grab.

And by the way, I'm not just writing all this because she's my best-bud, the book is an excellent, entertaining, intelligent read! One of my favorite angles in the novel is, of course---the prostitution. I have always been fond of prostitution as a subject and the characters in the novel give a whole new meaning to what prostitution is about, how it happens and shows the impossibility to stereotype or categorize them for their professions. We all have a 'calling' and at times, we don't have a say in how we will earn our living. Finally, I will say my favorite character is bluish, aqua-ish, or a mix of these with a mix of smokey gray and with that, I can't say more---we can *all* agree that when people spoil it, you just want to kill them.

Happy trekking my girl--you know I'm proud of you...no words necessary...

replacement therapy--nah!

2009-03-13T13:45:00.030-05:00

...

Okay the fact that I can't have a baby except through IVF, and we're too poor to afford it, is old news. And one might say that I'm looking for something to replace that void. None true.

Today brings the best news ever! I was accepted to graduate school at University of Texas, Arlington to the MA program for---OF COURSE---literature. I just received my official congrats letter today. Starting with two courses in Shakespeare this summer (early start)--and I'm already looking forward to what's next for Fall. My second best job in the world, the public library, may have to be the unfortunate sacrifice, but this is not yet certain.

I've been accepted before at University of South Carolina, (candidate for a fellowship even), but this brings a better thrill because it sort of begins what I've wanted to do for so long---get in the classroom, teaching credit courses. The timing is perfect.

Life is good, even in this economy craze crisis! Life is still pretty damn good! And because I can't record my own happy dance, I posted the above-piece from blogger alovelything.

Congratulations to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

the french eye

2009-03-12T15:05:00.007-05:00

Yet another beautiful French piece from the discarded book. I only had enough time to jot down the artist, Edouard Boubat. Not certain of the year or title. Could do some research, but I want to keep the post exactly how I found this, unplanned and in a hurry.

This piece speaks so much. I love the skin color against the white, soft dress, the soon to be sagging breasts and the near, almost shy nature of the mom to be. The hands, the slight pull to the roundness of her bump. The shadows tell a different story.

My soul turns when artists see and give back the beauty that we cannot, or that we find so common we merely pass by without the simplest of notice.

Still haven't convinced the library to let me have the book instead of throwing it away. I'm working on it though.

typos & grievances

2009-03-09T20:48:00.029-05:00

. . .

funnytypos.com

Wikipedia says it best:

A typographical error (shortened as typo) is a mistake made during, originally, the manual type-setting (typography) of printed material, or more recently, the typing process. The term includes errors due to mechanical failure or slips of the hand or finger, but excludes errors of ignorance. Before the arrival of printing, the "copyist's mistake" was the equivalent for manuscripts. Most typos involve simple duplication, omission, transposition, or substitution of a small number of characters.

Though the term "typo" excludes errors of ignorance, it is common to find it used as a euphemism to describe instances of poor spelling, punctuation, or grammar, such as accidentally typing a homophone.

Okay, none of this is good news, remember, I teach at a community college--yikes!

But,

fortunately (no disclaimer, really), my profession far extends my -of late- mishap to make lots and lots of typos in my emails and my blog comments. I typed an email to my step-mom the other day and part of it read: "Glad ---- and you and in touch" --- that was supposed to be *are* in touch----on wildeve's blog tried to clean it up and oh my god--it's really bad when everyone is trying to point it out by repeating the word more than many times in mouse's floral post tried to clean it up--i got it guys--repetition not necessary but i deserve it to an extent... another birthday wish to kimy...

and then...

there was one post i wrote something like "the latest word i screwed up was 'worse' when....jesus help....there was word right before that one i typed wrong.

I thought having a home computer, a little privacy, way more so than I get at the college or the library would help---hasn't! And to make matters worse, I skimmed through a blog book at the library, a book about blogging, that said something like if you make a lot of typos people won't love you anymore. Luckily, I love blogging for what it means: freedom, expression, showing a crumb of personal life to the world.

But I also like a typo from time to time, it shows my hectic (yes I meant to use that as a noun) and proves Oscar Wilde so wrong. He wrote..."a writer can survive anything but a typo." I beg to differ. A writer can survive anything but a pencil with a too-worn down eraser, a hacker, or even worse...a pen that skips ink.

What else?

toni morrison

2009-03-08T00:52:00.009-06:00

...

In November, it's my turn to facilitate a book club reading at the library. I'm starting off with Sula by Toni Morrison. Check out this clip...she is one of my favorite females, one of my few heroines...

not a black eye

Later, for a second lead, I might do Disgrace by J. M. Coetzee.

My last read, Delicate Edible Birds and Other Stories by Lauren Groff was good. It's an interesting piece if you like variety. Each story offers a very distinctive plot--this has much to do with the time periods which are set in "way back" to modern time; beautifully written characters that live in their respective times appropriately so, very convincing. Subjects vary from one another in the most distant. I did tend to wander a bit while reading a couple of the stories, but I'm sure this all had to do with me and in no way reflects on the author's ability to hold her readers, solidly, from beginning to end. 3.5 suns recommend, bravo for the cover.