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Iwa chick washed ashore (2006?)

Jul. 1st, 2016 | 10:36 am

The shearwater chicks wash ashore in the high winds; we take them to the people at Sea Life Park for care.Iwa chick washed ashore - 2006?

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Loving Turkey

Jan. 5th, 2011 | 11:13 am

I did the trip to Greece today to renew my Turkish visa -- it is now good for another 90 days! I plan on being here till the end of March (at least).

The trip involves taking a small ferry to Meis, the Greek island just offshore the town of Kaş. While we were there the large Greek ferry docked (it took up the whole bay!). We also saw a procession of children and priest -- getting ready for the 'blessings of the water' tomorrow (Epiphany). They will toss a cross into the water and people dive in to retrieve it. (brrrr) The children were singing - so adorable.

The little island town is enchanting - even in the drizzly gray of winter. I must return to Meis.

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Only you

Nov. 24th, 2010 | 01:58 am

I see others have touched in to LJ every once in a while ... a respite from the oh so public 'other worlds' online. It feels intimate here -- possibly because so many of us are still virtual, and not even considering any ftf meetings? Yes, I've seen so many of you in the other worlds (how do we juggle them all?!) - even followed some of you to these more vibrating, chattering places. And, yes, I still write here -- only, most of the time, I lock it for myself alone.

Odd? To write and never share? LOL. I have bundles of journals from over the decades that have never been read by anyone! I write. I write and I write. I think it is often more a 'sorting' process for me. Sometimes I find my answers. Mostly, I guess, I just don't want those that are near me to inhibit my writing. That is why I am here today ... sharing my writing with only you.

I have been traveling for three months (and have been in Fethiye, Turkey for the past month). I write in FB; write on couchsurfing; post pics in flickr; post stories in my other LJ account; send emails and ... write my intimate thoughts in a thin blue student journal that I carry with me everywhere. I sit in tavernas, in cafes, in bufes ... over expresso, over çay ... I always have my secret blue friend with me.

Some recent snippets from the blue journal:

10/22 (Rhodes)

I miss real discussions I must note these feelings. Travel is wearing me down? (Well, four languages in two months...) I am just sliding over the surface -- like those water spiders. I want roots for a while.

It has occurred to me - those days of feeling "unfettered" and floating off into the ether ... have resulted in this. What does one do with such freedom? (Panic?! LOL)

'Things Happen' - this is the book the taverna owner, Phil, is writing. I am sitting here with my tea writing. I am now officially stalling - my boat doesn't leafe for 4 hours. I do a lot of stalling while traveling. It creates spaces into which people flow.

... I celebrated the full moon last night with a glass of wine at Nikos' cafe. He has been kind - sharing a special dessert (his mother's recipe) and a locally brewed peach brandy. We have chatted and laughed. I hugged him goodbye. It made me aware of how much I miss conversation/contact. I don't have to be without it It has been my choice to stand back and watch. I can invite myself in. I can recreate myself each time I move. But, I'm finding I prefer getting closer to the real me. And ... I really like it when others see and embrace her.

10/27 (Fethiye)

...I should move on; I just want to sit here. I want to watch the rain. I want to feel. I want to imagine. Maybe I want answers? How much longer *can* I travel? Why would I? If I don't travel - then what? Hawai'i? Seattle? I have no idea how this chapter of my life is supposed to move. I tear up when I remember my life in Hawai'i - how hard and limited it was. Hawai'i has never held me gently. I've been allowed to 'perch' ... precariously. Will Turkey embrace me? Can I serve here?

I need to think "nagdeo" -- keep to things that feed my soul; move (gently) away from those that don't.

Moving without language is a kind of blindness, muteness. Aside from the obvious challenges, I also find that I am talking differently - much more precisely, carefully. It is much like feeling my way in the dark.

Most of the culture is hidden from me. One can't 'read between the lines' if one cannot read the lines at all.

"Throw the fish heads over the rail," she said. How delightful - I could hear the cats below munching.

11/8 (living in the hotel in Fethiye)

My spirit is collecting way too many feelings to process. S's hospitalization was hard for us. But we all know he probably won't stop drinking.

So ... several nights of dreams. Some parallel the day in tone -- quiet acceptance and warmth without any expectations. No pushing, no pulling. S is teaching me how to flirt. Simple, non-threatening play. He loves it - laughs loudly; acts like a clown. It took me a while to understand the game of it all. I can be such a pompous ass. On another level, I feel the warmth. Yes, if *I* were the one to collapse at the cafe, he would have been next to me instantly.

... then there is the deja vu. I feel it all the time - having been here and having lived all this. My dreams of the water place and the town (almost like a cartoon) ... it is a round harbor and the people are colorful; there are boats. It is Fethiye? I feel as if I've stepped into a painting.


Which will end first, my money or this journal. Today I leave for a couchsurfing adventure.

S. was hounding me this morning. Every time I turned around, he was behind me with a sad face. I told him I'd be back - I left my large backpack, for heaven's sake. I had to stamp my foot and tell him, "Stay! Stay!" when I was leaving for the bus. I should have remembered what happened when I thought it would be cute to feed the squirrels.

OK, funny, but not quite sincere. I have been spending many, many warm moments with S. Our tavla games are hilarious (he is a great teacher), We sit for hours reading from the Turkish-English dictionary, sipping çay, miming and laughing while we correct each others' pronunciation. He was the perfect person to go to Kayaköy with me. I like silence; he was a forest engineer -- has lived in silence. He knew how to feel the experience; he makes no demands.

11/22 (end of visit in Candir)

There are huge spaces in my understanding of what Turkish people say to me. And I can misunderstand them in a million ways. Perhaps that was a big part of my emotional crash into the man. We could talk (and talk, and talk, and talk) It was so intense, so brilliant, so alive.

But, after it all, I must remember this: a man who hated his mother will - inevitably - hate me. Very sad. Some scars cannot be healed I guess.

It was an important lesson; though one that I didn't want. He was H. from my past (re-formed); I was O. from his past. Perhaps that was the core attraction. We could not really focus on each others' face - we were looking beyond that, back into our history. I saw. My eyes burn.

A talk with my sister helped. "Peter Pan, self-absorbed, inconsiderate (his priority is the next fix of the drug)" -- she defined "pot head" for me. And they don't change (she talked about the way they transfer their addiction to something else -- without loosing any of their flippant self-delusion). I didn't imagine it. But ... still ... I am torn.

My body aches. Opening that sensual door was dangerous. I see myself - and all men - differently now. I want to be wildly free and screaming. So strange. I thought (as Augustine said in Ata) it had left me. I am moving like a sea anemone - trembling in the gentle currents.

I don't feel rejected; just sad. It should not end in rancor, I will have to initiate reconciliation (albeit, it may be better to give him a few days to smoke out all his stash, lol)

... back to strolling through Fethiye ... breathing in all the life around me.

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Raki and dancing

Nov. 5th, 2010 | 07:10 am

The Artemis Pansiyon has become my new home in Fethiye ...

the view and room are spectacular. I am just above the boat marinas.

I arrived here when I got lost -- I was looking for the youth hostel.

But a kind man, Thabitbey, saw my confusion and insisted I consider this place;

I did not think I could possibly afford it ...

... but ... magic happens.

On my second night here I met the others staying here. It is off season, so the owner is just having friends and family stay.

The man I first met, Thabitbey, is a retired forestry engineer who loves to dance.

And then there is a couple, Michel from Lebanon and his wife, Lola from Tajikistan. They speak Russian to their son, Davron. (They also speak French, Arabic and Turkish!).

Ismael is a quiet man who told me he is Mevlana . The owner of the pensiyon is Yaimas; he will join us for some of our upstairs revelry.

We began the evening with Lebanese food, tabouli, vegetables, fried fish, and ... raki, the Turkish anise-flavored liquor.

Raki is one of those sneaky drinks ... sweet and powerful.

We were dancing before we even finished eating.

... Tajik dancing ...


... Turkish dancing ...

... Arabic dancing ...

... Mevlana twirling ...

A wild time was had by all!

I have decided to stay another week ... at least ;-)

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Rainy Rhodes

Oct. 20th, 2010 | 06:16 am

I think it has rained more than sunned for the time I've been here. These past three days have been just a bit much. ...

No hot water (all solar, no elec.), got a bit of cabin fever ... had to find some distractions

Still ... I have gone out every day and waded through the streets.

Those of us that do this often end up as 'refugees from the storm'

(even the stray dogs know to find a friendly shop to rest in!)

And now that the forecast is SUNNY ... I leave on Friday.

(BEAUTIFUL moon tonight, btw!!)

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Hey, Mom!

Sep. 25th, 2010 | 08:29 am

Woohoo! I cooked for Lu and Leo and family tonight -- a 'real American dinner': barbecue chicken, cornbread and a veggie slaw.

And ... it turned out great!

I was working from memory (Mom's famous dishes) -- plus google, for proportions of ingredients.

Hey, Mom! Look what I did!

Lu in kitchen -- anxiously checking to see if I had made cornbread like my mother's.

Tomorrow night I will try making chicken adobo :-)

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Delicious Rain

May. 2nd, 2010 | 12:46 pm

The clouds were looming all day yesterday. It just began. The delicious, tropical, monsoonal rain.

I immediately jumped to make tea - and then to bake some onion-cheese cornbread. Such a joy to stand in my screened in 'kitchen' cooking and watching the pouring outside.

I love the smell, the sound, the taste. Ahhhh, rain!!

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Séraphine de Senlis

May. 1st, 2010 | 09:36 pm

I watched the film "Séraphine" and then searched for more of her paintings. Stirring ... eerie ... the forms move; it is truly amazing art. This one, especially. It is as though you can see through the colors ... as if this is painted on a glass in front of fire.

click to see full size

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Chickapalooza TNG

Mar. 23rd, 2010 | 11:28 pm

Many years ago three women of alt.surfing, weary of all the boy talk of meetups ('Guidopalooza'), met, surfed together in Hawai'i and then we posted our stories on the newsgroup. Today one of the daughters of an alt.surfing kupuna arrived on O'ahu to surf with her waterwomen friends. I was lucky enough to be 'tour guide' for their day of South Shore explorations. The four of us laughed and swam and surfed and ate our way from Waikiki to Waimanalo and back.

Hey, Alt.Surfing ... it's 'Chickapalooza -- The Next Generation'!

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Mar. 10th, 2010 | 11:31 pm

I've been down so long ...

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Mar. 7th, 2010 | 10:37 am

'Are you an artist?'

'Only on cars and toes.'

I did mehndi for a friend's daughter's 16th birthday party last night. It was my first party, so I was a little nervous. Now I feel my lines were clumsy, too thick. Still, I really did like the end products. I incorporated what they liked - stars, hearts, calligraphy, astrology and even wrote in Devanagari on one. It was fun -- everyone was very excited about it. I could have started something here. (I will post some of those pics if anyone passes them on to me - I was too busy to take my own)

Here is my first experiment (on myself). I should have left it to dry longer - it looks smeared at the end (I was too impatient to see the color!)

   before              after       

The photo below is from Henna Lounge http://hennalounge.livejournal.com/ - she is a professional. Her work is inspiring. I would love to learn from her. Need lots of practice -- and the right tools. ).


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In the spirit of spring and Holi!

Mar. 5th, 2010 | 10:57 am


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Electronic Celia

Mar. 4th, 2010 | 01:45 pm

For all my time online I have always felt that part of my function (duty?) is to pass on information to others who may need it. Sort of like how a cilia functions in a body.

I imagine others feel the same way. Perhaps even those who spam the endless stream of "lolz cats" email. I've never had a problem ignoring/deleting that kind of information, but I still wonder at the energy expended on so little 'nutrition'. Oh well, so many cilia in bodies have to work around sugar/fat binges, too.

My daily web rituals include gathering bits and pieces of all kinds of information and then forwarding it on in posts and/or email. It is like an obsession; I love the breadth and depth of data mining. I love how people along the way take information, add to it, critique it and pass it on. This is rarely a personal interaction; it is just part of being in the chain of people who are interested in expanding human knowledge and collaboration.

My one conundrum is the Hawai'i 'cyber body'. I do not know how to be an electronic cilia for Hawai'i people -- I have not yet found the 'chain' -- the places or posting areas that functions to support knowledge, growth and health of Hawai'i in general. There are many small 'niche' blogs/boards/groups ... but no overall connection area. The public ones that do exist (craigslist, newspaper forums) are often vicious, acrimonious and dominated by a few voices with way too much time on their hands. The smaller boards (hawaiithreads, kanu, etc.) seem to be small 'clics' who prefer discussing non-controversial topics like food, entertainment and shopping.

I believe my online experience reflects the real -- i.e., Hawai'i 'culture' is basically about 'don't make waves.' When you live on an island, you will meet everyone again just around the corner (we often even have common connections/ohana). "Six Degrees of Separation" is standard (when meeting someone new, we begin our 10 questions that will reveal our connections ... 'Where you grad?' LOL). Because of this we generally try to avoid conflicts. We warn each other about "bachi" -- what goes around, comes around. 'Aloha' - in practical terms - means "don't burn bridges".

Sadly, perhaps due to this, we don't see many people here who have developed skills to discuss, debate and enjoy learning from the process of discourse. A by-product of our 'island survival' technique is self-insulation. Too often - even in our political domains - we see people retreat to passivity -- or, occasionally, explode into negativity.

I spent the early '90s studying online interactions. I knew when I returned here in '94 that the 'cyber revolution' would arrive slowly - if for no other reason than the fact that we spend far less time inside on computers than people in Seattle. Hawai'i is also a place where exchanging the "ha" is deeply integrated into our understanding of each other. We need to meet ftf and "feel" a person's being before we trust. And, for myself - especially after all of my cyberrelationship studies - I really believe that there are things we only CAN know in ftf interactions.

This belief has been validated by my past year working in Waimanalo organizations. This experience taught me that there are deep and complex streams of communication that only occur in real time, ftf interactions. I never found any of the real, useful information about Waimanalo online (or even in print!). All news, ideas, events, histories, designs, facts, decisions -- all communication of any importance in Waimanalo is always done ftf. Part of this is due to what I call the "ha" factor, part is possibly due to other factors.

This avoidance of sharing information in print and online could also spring from a wound that is deeper in the culture. Hawai'i has been the focus of so many predatory scams over the years that each person when introduced to new information is tentative and sometimes even hostile -- for good reason. I have no idea of what will help assuage this suspicion. Another aspect I saw in Waimanalo culture was the need to "own" knowledge for the illusion of power. This, I believe, is a remnant of a patriarchal, hierarchical tradition, that hinders all growth. I speak of my Waimanalo experiences, but I think this example reflects much of Hawai'i culture in general.

I feel sad that so many here equate learning and growing with being scammed. Exchanging ideas does not have to hurt. And growth can be used to validate and enhance local values and traditions. The legacies of patriarchy and hierarchy are another animal; newcomers (particularly the evangelist christians) have grafted onto and even magnified these negative traditions in many communities.

I feel a bit discouraged; perhaps I need to hear more from younger people, older people, other people online in Hawai'i. My views are so isolated by exactly what I am missing -- an online body in Hawai'i that can critique, discuss and build on these hypothesis.

I am seeking to know more.

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Feb. 27th, 2010 | 03:43 am

My sister called me at 2 am to tell me the news; the alarms are set to go off at 6 am -- the waves are expected around 11 am HST. I'm listening to news; watching twitter reports.

I live a block from the beach; I need to pack to go to higher ground. Strange. I don't feel any urgency. According to the Civil Defense maps, my place is a bit protected by offshore reefs. Still ... some tweets say there will be '5 meter high' waves. The official reports say this will be the worst tsunami here since 1960. All coastal areas on all islands will be evacuated.

People online are tweeting about shopping (supplies). There will be massive traffic jams. Everyone believes there will be no loss of life; we all know what to do. The hotels in Waikiki are taking people to higher floors.

The biggest danger will be to those who want to get too close to the shore for photos, etc. There are always idiots. (A couple of years ago the state even had to issue a special film to educate surfers about the dangers of paddling out to surf a tsunami!)

The power of the ocean should never be underestimated.

More later.

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Video editing used to be easier?

Feb. 22nd, 2010 | 06:27 am

Yeah, I was up all night. This video has taken almost as long as it took to paint the car!!

Here it is! Puffy Paint Artcar - Part II

Update: Yikes! ... youtube won't post it (copyright on music, aaargh...)

Here is the Facebook link (tell me if you can't see it?):


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Film therapy - Onegin

Feb. 21st, 2010 | 09:20 am

I really didn't like the film that much - in fact, I only chose it to watch Ralphe Fiennes. He did a one-emotion performance. Pretty grim.

However, there were a couple of scenes of close-ups (macro) of quill pens writing on paper. The ink touched and was absorbed as the letters flowed, curled and formed slowly. It was something very evocative - perhaps a memory ... the fluid ink and waves of the letters were sensual. I remember how I loved fountain pens on soft paper.

I think I need to get away from this screen.

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Yes, yes, yes!!!

Feb. 20th, 2010 | 01:15 am

I LOVE the Yes Men!


The Yes Men Fix the World

From New Orleans to India to New York City, armed with little more than cheap thrift-store suits, the Yes Men squeeze raucous comedy out of all the ways that corporate greed is destroying the planet.

Coming in October ... a screwball true story - an award winning film - about two gonzo political activists who, posing as top executives of giant corporations, lie their way into big business conferences and pull off the world's most outrageous pranks and expose the world's greediest corporations.

Beware, Corporate America: the Yes Men are here.

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Memories and magic

Feb. 19th, 2010 | 02:27 am

It's late and I am googling the name of a man I once almost met. Many years ago.
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Mo'o on Christmas Papaya Tree

Feb. 14th, 2010 | 12:08 pm

Aha! I finally caught the mo'o (green anole) with camera. She loves to lick the papaya. I let the fruit ripen on the tree so I can watch out my window to see her and the singing birds nibble.

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film therapy - Born Into Brothels

Feb. 14th, 2010 | 01:06 am

Well, I put off watching this film for years. I just haven't been up to watching a film about the slums of Calcutta. I assumed it would be depressing.

To be honest, it made me cry - but not because it was depressing; because it was so inspiring. Sometimes really good things ... things that make my soul soar ... just break me down. I wrote to my daughter about the power of photography (following up on a conversation we had earlier today). I am stunned by how some visuals are so profound - far beyond words. I am just a word person.

It is good to cry. I think that these are the moments that provide a chink of light into the darkness that keeps me from moving. I really don't cry enough, considering all the sadness I feel. And, I really need all the light I can get, even though it is never direct ... more like a flicker that I can barely follow in my peripheral vision. It catches me and I have to stop.

I am waiting. There will be more. I just have to be open to seeing.

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Reasons to be Cheerful

Feb. 11th, 2010 | 02:32 pm

Why don't ya get back in bed ...

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The Internet is Made of Cats

Feb. 5th, 2010 | 06:43 am

How did I ever live without the internet?

Last year I let an idiot put color on my hair and it ended up pink! I never would have thought of wearing a poultice of ground up vitamin C and lemon juice. I was back to normal in a few hours.

Today I learned that you can rejuvinate old leather shoes by spraying them with non-stick cooking oil. They are a little darker, but look great. Got a job interview. Wish me luck.

P.S. http://www.rathergood.com/cats

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Is it so bad to laugh so hard?

Jan. 27th, 2010 | 09:33 pm

Ups and downs today.

This was a definite UP! http://www.viceland.com/int/v17n1/htdocs/fashion-work-hard-play-hard-301.php?page=7

And these witty word plays have given me the case of the giggles: http://www.metafilter.com/88673/WORK-HARD-PLAY-HARD

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Grand Idea #621

Jan. 26th, 2010 | 07:57 pm

(Maybe that number is an exaggeration, but it does seem I come up with a lot of Grand Ideas these days ... one is surely going to be worth following through on!)

Title: Integrated cyber-flesh travel-art Expedition

This is my year to travel. I figure that even if I just pick up meager jobs along the way I can still spend less in one year of travel than living here for a year. I have a small window of opportunity ...

Sooo ... Read more...Collapse )

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Jan. 26th, 2010 | 11:38 am

I was going to post this somewhere else, then realized it was too personal for anything but this blog ....

Funerals, though, are for the living and not the actual deceased person ...

When my father died none of us were prepared to make any funeral decisions. It took two days for siblings to fly home. His ashes sat on my mom's bed in a white box. On that second night we stayed up late and talked, telling favorite stories of my very-colorful father. Someone still has a recording of parts of that - tears, raucous laughter, even singing. It was very much like an Irish wake; very fitting.

At one point in the evening I went into my mother's room and found the box sitting on the bed -- "dressed" in my father's gardening cap with his muddied tattered sneakers arranged under it. His old flannel shirt was draped around the box. My brother's comic touch.

In the morning we took the box and some of his favorite plants and hiked far up his favorite hiking trail. Each took a handful of the ashes and sprinkled them. We planted the kamani tree he had grown from seed.

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Jan. 22nd, 2010 | 07:49 pm

Die Slowly ~ Pablo Neruda

He who becomes the slave of habit,
who follows the same routes every day,
who never changes pace,
who does not risk and change the color of his clothes,
who does not speak and does not experience, dies slowly.

He or she who shuns passion,
who prefers black on white,
dotting ones “is” rather than a bundle of emotions,
the kind that make your eyes glimmer,
that turn a yawn into a smile,
that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings, dies slowly.

He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy,
who is unhappy at work,
who does not risk certainty for uncertainty,
to thus follow a dream,
those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives, die slowly.

He who does not travel,
who does not read,
who does not listen to music,
who does not find grace in himself, dies slowly.

He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem,
who does not allow himself to be helped,
who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck,
about the rain that never stops, dies slowly.

He or she who abandon a project before starting it,
who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn’t know,
he or she who don’t reply when they are asked something they do know, die slowly.

Let’s try and avoid death in small doses,
always reminding oneself that being alive requires an effort by far
greater than the simple fact of breathing.
Only a burning patience will lead to the attainment of a splendid happiness.

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jesus-pony people

Jan. 22nd, 2010 | 08:46 am

Yeah, I should be down at the legislature today. The Senate is voting on the Civil Unions bill -- it has a good chance of passing (and then on to being vetoed by the Republatollah governor).

So, right now ... the jesus-pony people will be out en masse downtown. Honk if you support mass ignorance.

Someone should start a foundation to help deprogram them. They *chose* their lifestyle (hate, malice and bigotry); they were not born that way.

Even the public is tired of the hate: http://poll.starbulletin.com/index.php/_components/index/

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Artcar (my third -- but BEST ever!!)

Jan. 21st, 2010 | 12:50 pm

I finished this video a couple of months ago -- and the car is so much more painted now. The kids (and so many other people have contributed). I need to get the second (3rd, 4th) films up on youtube, but am struggling with imovie (I hate reading manuals) and can't afford FinalCutPro yet. Stay tuned.

Meanwhile ... some background:

I tell people, "The grandkids got bored." The car really gets attention wherever we go; crowds sometime gather around it. It is true, though, it did start from boredom. We were parked and waiting for something one day and I told the kids, "go ... paint the car." I was so delighted with their response that we continued on. Then friends of the kids added on, then we offered to have others join in when they watched us (you can see the mall security guard painting with us near near the end of this vid). There were families of kids who would gather; tourists, friends, surfers, ... I took the car to a gallery opening and everyone joined in. Kids run towards the car and wave on the freeway.

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Where did the night go

Jan. 21st, 2010 | 09:36 am

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Pert weapons

Jan. 20th, 2010 | 06:56 pm

Sitting on the beach with friend today and a couple walks up with beach chairs, talking loudly and proceeds to plop their whole 'camp' down in front of us blocking our view. No sense of space. There really was plenty of room over to the side. They really were clueless. (This is the kind of people for which I use the word "haole".)

My friend sat up and untied the top of her bikini. She took it off and put it to the side. We continued our conversation without any comment about her action. I watched the couple out of the corner of my eye. They had walked over to the edge of the water with another friend and the woman turned, looked back, and quickly looked away. My friend grinned at me, "She just told the guys, 'that woman is topless!'" The guys quickly sneaked a peek and looked away.

After a while the couple returned to their chairs but slouched down and murmured quietly. You could see them determinedly staring straight ahead -- fearful even to look at each other in case their eyes strayed backwards. My friend smiled. I loved it.

The couple did not stay very long. It was such a beautiful day.

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