a verbivore's outlet

moving blog location

2008-04-13T00:39:00.000-07:00

I'm heading over to Wordpress to try that out for a while, mostly because they have several new feature that I'm interested in using. Come follow me there! http://cianna.wordpress.com

Following up: Arnel's 1st concert

2008-04-12T15:12:00.000-07:00

For those of you who read my earlier post about Arnel Pineda getting picked up by Journey, I thought you should check out the video of his first concert with the band.

Do zombies' hearts keep beating?

2008-04-05T08:37:00.001-07:00

This has been zombie week in my world. Last Saturday I went out to a Zombie Birthday Pary (Celebrating 34 years of being alive! That's 34 years of being undead!). Then on Wednesday, I learn through Twitter and various podcasts that it's Zombie Preparedness Awareness Day, a day to review your plans and supplies to ensure you're prepared for the inevitable zombie attack. And last night we went to see a zombie movie at the Parkway. It wasn't great, but it was a nice bookend to my week.

All this undead energy around me took over my shower thoughts this morning, centered around the question: Do zombies' hearts keep beating? I would have to guess, "No," based on the fact that zombies, when torn apart, do gush blood. (The fact that humans use the fact that they can detect a heartbeat to declare that someone is still alive was ruled out as additional evidence because humans, when faced with the threat of having their brains eaten, are not known for clear and methodical thinking.) On the other hand, another defining characteristic of zombies is their ashen appearance, which can be expected to result from a lack of blood in surface capillaries, blood which would normally be pumped into that area by a beating heart.

Let's examine this second possibility a little more deeply: If the undead heart were to stop beating, then the blood would no longer be circulating, but would remain in the body until some outlet was created (e.g., the removal of a limb, a gunshot inexplicably aimed at the heart when we all know you kill zombies by shooting them in head). Zombies are not immune to gravity, so it seems to me that the blood would pool in their lower extremities. This may help to explain the dragging walk and the "lifeless" hand (actually just quite heavy now with all that extra liquid). If this is correct, then our cinematic representations of zombies really should more accurately reflect the corporal distortion which can be expected to result from this, namely very fat hands and feet -- almost clown-like, really, in their ballooned out state.

Of course, I am willing to entertain the possibility that the heart simply re-starts (after death) pumping at a super slow rate, thereby continuing to bring blood to the limbs to keep them animated, but not at a rate strong enough to drive the blood into the smallest regions of the vascular system.

None of this helps me understand the phenomena or appearance of fast zombies. They're just simply freaky and the creatures against which we must most strongly fortify ourselves.

New Blog - co-created with Cyan

2008-03-29T00:21:00.001-07:00

If you don't know Cyan, then your world is not yet as bright as it will be once you've met her. I am honored and more than a little psyched that she has decided to start a new site & blog featuring the two of us, the Sexiest Geeks Alive. Andrew Mager joined in and helped design it to kick it off. It's a place for us to celebrate the sexy geeks of the world, and also to blog randomly about our ideas. Come check it out. I'm very very (did I mention VERY?) excited about it.

I wonder and will never know

2008-03-24T14:00:00.000-07:00

Three days ago it was my mother's birthday. Or, more precisely, it would have been.

Today when I went out for lunch I overheard a very intense (and supportive) conversation between a mother and her daughter about the daughter's difficulties with her boyfriend. I pictured myself in that conversation with my mother and wondered if I would have had that kind of open talk with her, if I would have sought out her advice.

A few minutes later, I realized with a surprise that I'm only a handful of years away from the real possibility that I could have been the mother in that conversation had I stayed in one particular relationship and had children as my partner desired.

I walked home increasingly thoughtful, bordering on despondent, considering how I have been cut out/have cut myself out of a relationship which so many around me herald as one of the most important in their lives: between mother and daughter. I know it's not everything, and I am not knocking the relationship I have with my Dad, but I hear that it's different and it makes me wonder.

small act, big reaction

2008-03-21T11:14:00.001-07:00

This morning I needed a little jolt to get me started so I stopped by Peet's. Ahead of me in line was a man in his late 50s/early 60s. He had stooped shoulders under his outdoorsy jacket, was slightly balding, and gave an impression of trying not to take up too much space. As we moved closer to the registers, he was peering intently at the pastries, carefully considering his options. I looked into the case and noticed that there were two pieces of banana nut bread left, my morning snack of choice there. The man stepped up and, in a notably quiet voice, ordered one slice of it and tea. I was called to the other register and placed my order (thinking "that's the last slice!") and coffee. Our two cashiers disappeared for a moment, kneeling behind the low case to reach into the bottom shelf. I was handed my order and while waiting for my change I heard the man's register girl apologize to him, saying "I dropped the last piece of banana nut bread. Would you like something else?" The man looked confused and started to look again into the case. I offered my slice back to his cashier saying, "He ordered it first. Take this and I can get something else." My cashier heard me right away, but it took a few moments for the other folks to catch the man's attention so he would turn around. By then another Peet's staff person had joined in and a couple of people in line had also become involved. The guy at my register said my action was "a customer of the year thing to do!" and everyone seemed really surprised.

It was such a small act on my part, but I was struck by the reaction it caused. I confess that I enjoyed breaking up the rhythm of the order/pay/order/pay that is the mark of busy coffee shop efficiency. I also liked making a few people smile. I thought how different it would be if we would all do little kindnesses like this every day. I saw it as an opportunity that I couldn't pass up.

I was joined at the milk bar by the man who asked me shyly, "What did you end up getting?" I told him, "A rasberry scone. They're really good, too." He smiled at me. I returned the smile and said, "Have a great rest of your day!" And I really meant it.

Nerdcore For Life Trailer

2008-03-03T08:29:00.001-08:00

This is a film I'm eager to see! I'm in a real nerd love moment right now!

Breaking Points

2008-01-09T23:10:00.000-08:00

I don't know if, as I get older, it's because I have more to compare things to or because I'm simply getting less tolerant, but it seems that I am bumping up against my breaking points more frequently. There are certain behaviors which I find I will not tolerate. I find that I'm able to see them earlier on and catch them before they do real damage. Not all, not all, but more with each passing year. Maybe in the past I was more able to let them roll off my back... Actually I know that the truth is really that, more often than not, I didn't stand up for myself and what I wanted. (There are oh so many reasons for my considering my own needs subservient to others' needs or to the desire to maintain equilibrium but I really don't feel like going into them right now.) Things are changing as I get more confidence and am less willing to waste time. I am no longer so afraid of confrontation -- particularly after I started to realize that the short term pain of tackling issues head-on will be often be far less damaging than the slow drip of resentment eating away at the core of a relationship like the ooze of an acid leak.

People think I'm direct. I know I still have a long way to go before I am actually expressing all that I need to say -- but I will acknowledge that I'm doing better. I will always feel others' feelings and hate it when I'm the source of hurt or resentment. This sometimes causes me to delay saying something that I'm sure another doesn't want to hear -- but I'm learning that in the end I will say what needs to be said. I'm not willing to be less empathic at the same time I'm not willing to just pretend that everything's ok. I don't want to learn to be hard and at the same time I don't want to be a pushover any more. If I can figure this out, I do know that it's the right way to go. But I still have so much to learn...

NORAD TRACKS SANTA 2007

2007-12-25T12:07:00.000-08:00

NORAD TRACKS SANTA 2007

OK. I was amused & intrigued enough to check out the partnership between Google and NORAD (the arm of the government tasked with tracking & then shooting down missiles etc). But I did then immediately start to question why our government is spending money on this. You know, a marketing ploy to lie to children through a seriously extended joke.

Then again, there's that part of me which check out the Santa Tracker and felt bad for all those parts of the world that it looks like Santa missed. He did make it to Madagascar and it looks like he carpet bombed Papua New Guinea, but Algeria and Mongolia were skipped completely. I mean, I know he only has one night, but don't those children deserve a fly-by, too?

Journey-Don't Stop Beliving (ZOO BAND)

2007-12-20T10:48:00.001-08:00

The video of Arnel Pineda that changed his life...

Filipinos' special talent

2007-12-19T09:53:00.000-08:00

Here's a story that I love in so many ways:

Arnel Pineda, a Filipino living in Quezon City, has been picked up to be the new singer for Journey. He was scouted via YouTube, where videos of him fronting his cover band, The Zoo, were posted. Pineda's voice is so like Perry's it's astonishing.

As an extra bonus, I was told about this event by the director of a film I'm producing who's currently living in China and spotted it in a Shanghai blog.

For those of you who have been spared my rhapsodic waxing regarding the special talent of my people, here's a summary: They are the most talented imitators on the planet. Now this is a generalization and it certainly borders on stereotype (or just plain lives in that world comfortably), but I swear it's true. One of the main exports of the Philippines is cover bands. Visual artists within the Philippines know that any original work has a limited lifespan before it is replicated with crazy accuracy and mass-marketed. Filipinos' skill as actors and dancers is also remarkable. As a people, they are incredibly artistic and bizarrely capable of replicating just about any art form.

Now, the downside is that they're not particularly well known for invention or originality. Very few push the boundaries of just about anything. Also, while able to imitate the skill of things, they don't always hook into the thought or emotion which originally generated that art form. There are, of course, exceptions to this. The rate of, say, original composition might be comparable to that rate in the States compared to the general population, but it's notably low compared to the percentage of Filipinos with musical talent.

But this is off the joy which inspired this post in the first place. I love that technology helped to once again collapse historical geographic boundaries. I love that Arnel Pineda, a Filipino imitator of note, has been given the chance to live out his rock star dreams. I love the odd validation of the talent of a good cover band.

The Shanghai blogger chose the right title: Don't Stop Believing.

understanding the source

2007-12-14T22:07:00.001-08:00

The source -- or at least a big part -- of my stress is a sense of being out of control. This week I put some more effort into organizing, getting things under control, and while the number of tasks has not reduced (actually increased), I am not quite as freaked out anymore.

This is a lesson that I learned in scuba which I need to remember at all times. When something goes wrong, stop, breathe, think and THEN act.

needed: discipline

2007-12-10T08:47:00.000-08:00

I am clearly overextended. Things like relaxing, seeing friends and dating feel inefficient and self-indulgent. Tasks like cleaning and shopping are completely knocked off the list. I realize that all of these activities are necessary for my mental well-being, but I don't know how to handle accomplishing the many things I need to do for the work that I have set up for myself. And there's the catch. This is a situation of my own creation, reinforced by the reality that I really enjoy everything I'm doing and that my current activities are what I have been work towards for a long time. I am also impatient and unwilling to postpone undertaking any of these tasks because the opportunities are here now and I want to take them.

And so, I need to institute more discipline into my life. Mornings need to be organized. The whole day must be organized. I know that I can do all of this. It is not an option to say no. I must also somehow work in some delegation, I know, but for right now that's on the list of things I still need to figure out.

clarity feels good

2007-11-19T13:00:00.000-08:00

In the past few days I've initiated 3 difficult, awkward and potentially painful conversations. I felt the need to be direct and honest in order to preserve the relationship that I had with each person, and to give them information they needed to be able to make decisions for themselves.

It's always so hard to bring up difficult subjects. Fear of what they'll think of me or the damage that it might cause to what we have so nearly stops me. It certainly has stopped me in the past. But I learn over and over that it's so much better to be clear and direct -- and that generally my relationship is improved. If not, if they're not someone who I can be open with, then perhaps they're not someone that I want to have personal conversations with at all.

This impulse towards honesty is moderated, however. As I talked about with one person this weekend, honest is different from brutal honesty. Honesty that comes from a place of love, from caring about the other person, is very different from "I'm going to tell you this because I want to talk no matter whether or not you can hear it." I strive to stay away from the selfish version of honesty.

I didn't know how or when to bring these topics up, but knew that they had to be discussed. I gave up trying for the perfect time in favor of not causing undue delay. I was, in each case, afraid. But then I was rewarded with excellent conversations and a deeper closeness afterwards. Today I feel weights removed from my shoulders and smiles coming easily.

I am amazed by how much my life is changed by trying to consciously surround myself with people who want to have this kind of clarity and openness in their lives. I feel very lucky to be in the world that I'm in right now.

Clockwise. Counterclockwise. Destroy.

2007-11-15T09:16:00.000-08:00

This morning I irreparably damaged one of my nicest pans by turning the burner on to "high" when I was finished instead of "off." I was alerted by the pungent smell of plastic -- which I initially dismissed, attributing it to the ever-present construction next door. I finally realized what was happening and dashed into the kitchen to see the sad sight of the handle forlornly slumped over, bleeding out its toxic innards onto the once-clear glass cover.

Yesterday afternoon I was telling co-workers that my brain has become too fragmented. I recalled H's insightful comment that my life was understaffed. It is becoming clearer that my being a solo act in all things is not optimal.

believing in love

2007-10-13T08:18:00.001-07:00

When completing a profile for Facebook, one section says "Religious views:" I appreciate that they left it open ended -- not a drop-down menu -- so you can fill it in any way that you want. I automatically left it blank and just skipped ahead.

For some reason in the last few days I've been thinking about it. Really the only thing that I can say is that I believe in love. "Religious views: I believe in love." I resisted putting that in because it sounds so hokey and romantic. It sounds girly. It sounds silly, insipid, naive.

Well...OK. Truly I don't know how it sounds. That's just what I think it might sound like. And that projected perception is in conflict with my (self-)image of being sharp, intellectual, a little tough, strong. This is an image which arises naturally out of both my self-reliance and my intellect. I am associated with dry wit, complicated texts, aggressive sports, high risk. Then again, that's a self-image which I think is incomplete, which I think helps to cut me off from others a little, which leads to isolation.

The truth is that I am all that and am still soft and sparkly inside. I hold on dearly to memories of romantic things I've done for others or which have been done for me -- and that I find it confusing that I frequently date people who are not romantic, or are not romantic in the quirky artistic way that I really adore. I dream of things like returning from a hard day climbing a multipitch route to find the path home lined with jars of fireflies and an invitation to release them back into the night together. And I am not ashamed that people might think that I might like that.

And the other truth is that the love I believe in is not romantic love. When it comes to a religious belief, I mean that I believe that if we all focused on love, if we all just thought about how to best express love for each other, then the world would be a happier place. I believe in community, connections, a foundation based on "we" not "I." If we could think about loving without owning, a love that doesn't have the counterbalance of hate or fear or jealousy, a love that was just giving and trusting, then I believe that all good things would follow out of that. It's not easy to do. You have to believe that there's enough love to go around. And I do believe in that.

remarkable

2007-10-10T22:32:00.001-07:00

Remarkable is a word which I really should use more often. There are times when I say "awesome" or "incredible" when really all I mean is that the item is worthy of noting, that it deserves a remark, not that it really is particularly great or terrible or truly deserving of anything approaching a superlative. It is, quite simply, remarkable.

I was reminded of this word by a friend just a few nights ago and I have not forgotten it. I was struck both by the pure appropriateness of that word choice, as well as by the familiar feeling that I know so many more appropriate and specific words than I utilize. I believe it is time to reinvigorate my verbalized vocabulary.

The danger of overwhelm

2007-10-09T22:42:00.000-07:00

The pressure now is to get moving on several fronts. I know I can, I know I've done it before... but the problem is overcoming friction to get into motion. This is always a dangerous period for me. Once everything's going it's easier. Always.

I find this is also where it's hard for me to be so much on my own. Working independently. Living alone. Single. It's harder to act on the plans.

I like partnerships. Yes, they are hard for me but I still like them.

everyone has their own experience

2007-09-04T12:01:00.001-07:00

For years people who go to Burning Man have been encouraging me to go. Usually they're simply surprised that I have never been. Many have told me about the kinds of personal revelations that they experience there. They describe the community, the art, the way that their entire world view is altered through the experience. They talk about the freedom, the sex, the physicalness of it all. People think I'm already a burner because the way that I see the world and the way I live my life basically fits into their new world view.

I'll let you in on a little arrogance I have: When I would hear from some really (or formerly) straight-laced person about how BM changed their views, I would think that was really great for them, but that I didn't need BM to do that for me. I am able to challenge myself right here in the city. And some of what they're talking about is simply what I have always believed and what has always set me a little apart. I retained a frustration that the kind of community and freedom which was celebrated at Burning Man stayed on the Playa or stayed somehow locked within communities and still hasn't managed to seep into the general world. And so I couldn't really see why I "needed" to go.

And now I'll let you know about a little problem I have: In preparing to go to BM this year (although not only then) I had a hard time knowing that I was going to do something and spend money on something which was entirely just for fun. It felt self-indulgent, selfish. And therefore unnecessary. I have a tendency to feel guilty and wrong whenever I do something which is unproductive, which is just for me. Something which does not benefit others, improve my body/mind or which is simply hedonistic & solo. (The "solo" is a big thing here -- if I am with others then that alone makes anything ok).

And so I left for Burning Man with a resolve to avoid taking on responsibility, to immerse myself in an environment in which everyone is supported in saying exactly what he/she wants to do and then doing it, to give in to my impulses. And I expected no revelations or transformation. It was a challenge. I wanted to see what it was like to spend a few days just listening to me.

The release for me came in the form of a sandstorm. I had been there for less than 24 hours. I went with my group out on our art car, an exposed trailer decorated a la rainforest with a DJ set-up. We were out on the Playa when the wind gathered speed and whipped up the dust bringing a total white-out which lasted for hours. And I did exactly what I wanted to do: I danced. We had a dance party in the middle of a storm and I spun and stomped and reveled in the rawness of it all. I was covered in dust, running in the sun, sweating, and grinning wildly under my dust mask and goggles.

That night I danced exuberantly in the open air and rode my bike all over the playa. I lay down in the dirt, stared at the stars, exulted in the hugeness of it all.

On the second day, when we were hit by another intense white-out, I was left alone in the camp and I went walking. I searched for the right place to be. I passed people holed up in their shelters, taking refuge in Center Camp, covering themselves up. It started to rain. I walked in the middle of the street. I joined a group dancing outside on the Esplanade. When the wind died down a double rainbow stretched across the playa from the Man to the mountains and then became clearer and sharper until we could see the elusive violet and it looked like a triple rainbow. I danced away from the group and towards the rainbows.

And so it continued. I had no revelations of community. I loved the art and wanted everyone there to find a way to bring that creativity into their everyday worlds without fear. I talked with a guy during a dust storm who was wearing a cute black skirt and no top who confessed he had arrived wearing a polo shirt and cargo shorts. I told him he looked really cute and fantastic. I hope that his wardrobe in the outside world will at least contain more colors now. But the overwhelming feeling for me was one of comfort and familiarity. I understand why they say "Welcome Home."

But more than anything I remembered. I remembered that I have always loved being physically connected to the earth. I remembered the joy that I have when I go spelunking and end up covered in mud. I remembered why I am always taking off my shoes, particularly when I eat. I remembered why I strip the moment I get home. I remembered the feeling of sun on salt covered skin and falling asleep in the open air without even a tent wall to separate me from the breeze. I remembered why I am always opening windows and turning off air conditioning. I remembered stories about my dragging a bucket outside and standing in it to take a shower in the rain when I was very young. I remembered spending hours and hours as a child holding on to trees and staying very still so I could feel the vibrations between myself and the forest. I remembered why it is that my body is powerful.

And I realized that the dangerous part of me that I have been afraid of is not that I am sexual. I have felt the pressure to control that which is animal. And what I take away from the week is that there is no reason for me to be tamed.

coconut water better than gatorade!

2007-08-27T16:29:00.000-07:00

Of course with BM coming up, I'm all into learning more about re-hydration. Turns out that whenever you're feeling your electrolyte count dropping, you should reach for a young coconut water instead of a Gatorade or Powerade or whatever other neon colored drink you normally crave. It's not likely to cause stomach upset and is just as effective. And all natural! (This info verified in a research article reported by National Institutes of Health)

hovering

2007-08-26T09:32:00.000-07:00

I feel somehow like I am hovering just off the ground, that there's a thin layer of air between my body and everything around me. In my work, I am between things, great things are about to start but have not yet started. Past projects are nearly done but have not quite let me go. Socially I am reconnecting with people, but am stuck permanently in the present participle, not connecting long enough or regularly enough simply to be connected. In dancing, in climbing, I am repeatedly starting again after a break -- the length of the breaks are shortening, but it's so different from how I once was there's no way for me to think that I'm back.

And then there's dating. There is where I understand that air has mass, that there is a distinct cushion of vibrating molecules bouncing around between myself and others. I want someday to reach through that space to actually touch another, to merge boundaries, to feel the exchange of electrons, to trust that. But to do that, I think -- somewhere -- I have to land.

Karaoke Time: Baby Got Book

2007-08-24T08:41:00.000-07:00

Audrey sent this video to me. She found it on GodTube. I'm inclined to think it's brilliant. It's also hilarious. And disturbing. I don't know if it's effective. But now I have heard of the Momentum Church... Where the heck is my KJV?

shiny green, sparkly orange

2007-08-23T08:23:00.000-07:00

Unsurprisingly, I have decided to take on a crazy task with little to no time to finish it. Having nearly completed the basic level of prep that I need to do to get to Burning Man, I have succumbed to my inner drag queen and am busily attempting to make costumes. Yes, I am just getting started now. But seriously, how could I fight the vision of shiny chartreuse pants as a base with various sparkly orange pieces to layer on top? Once that sort of thing gets in your head you just have to manifest it in the real world. This is just to augment the pink & white glitter top & mini ensemble that I had lying around. My bike has been a happy sparkly pink & yellow for a while & sometimes a girl just has to live up to her wheels. It's just too bad that the little disco ball ornaments I used to have on it flew off once when I hit a speed bump...

lesson: stay open

2007-08-22T10:57:00.001-07:00

Again and again I re-learn that I simply need to keep myself open. My world is magical and it always has been. As a child I used to practice having my "neutral" face be one that was approachable. I have always known that this is the better way to be.

This morning I was looking for sources for meditation. I am trying to bring that into my life, wanting to do it more formally than my current attempts. After poking around online for a while I took a break and went outside. I was on my sidewalk, checking my sun shade for holes. A woman rode by on her bike. She called out, "Are you going to Burning Man?" I said, "Yes! It's my first time!" She grinned and waved happily. "Bring lots of water!" Then a moment later, "Bring lots of color!" I smiled and waved back. She continued on her way down the street.

My sunshade was up and it looked perfect. Pretty excellent for a chance used purchase.

The woman returned. She came back to tell me about a meditation area that she'll be supporting at BM, inviting me to join them. Her name is Radiant Jewel.

There have been many times that a stranger arrived to invite me to an event or to just share a thought. If I stay open, if I know and say what I need, I am open to magic.

my doc subject is getting into the news

2007-08-21T11:04:00.001-07:00

Working up a doc about this company, Zivity. I love their approach and am very excited to see how it plays out!

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