Blatherskite

Foolish gibberish

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about

I am a Children’s Librarian living in the Portland, Oregon area. When I am not Children’s Librianing I like to play with cameras and film. I also like playing the ukulele, knitting, sketching, and hiking.
  • The letter

    The letter

    I originally posted the finished version of the poem I was working out in the photo above on Flickr. Then I lost my nerve and deleted it. And then I felt weak and stupid for losing my nerve. So I’m posting it here, for your entertainment and enjoyment (or judgment. whatever.).

    A letter to my grandmother, found in her desk.

    A Pantoum.

    I’m getting along as well as can be expected.
    It was such an awful shock to me.
    Charlie went so sudden.
    He had been feeling fine.

    It was such an awful shock to me.
    He went out that morning at 5:30 to sweep snow.
    He had been feeling fine.
    It was two above zero.

    He went out that morning at 5:30 to sweep snow.
    I didn’t even know he was out there.
    It was two above zero.
    When he came in the house I woke up and got dressed.

    I didn’t know he was out there.
    He said he was awful hungry. “I’ll fry myself 2 eggs.”
    When he came in the house I woke up and got dressed.
    Those are the last words he said.

    He said he was awful hungry. “I’ll fry myself 2 eggs.”
    He fell backwards in front of the kitchen stove.
    Those are the last words he said.
    Sweeping is harder on the heart than shoveling.

    He fell backwards in front of the kitchen stove.
    Bob from the mortuary said Charlie was gone before he hit the floor.
    Sweeping is harder on the heart than shoveling.
    His blood vessels in his eyes were ruptured.

    Charlie was gone before he hit the floor.
    He went so sudden.
    Eye Vessels ruptured.
    Just a few lines to let you know I’m getting along as well as can be expected.

  • The window seat

    The window seat

    I was boarding the plane from Spokane to Portland on Monday morning and in a bad mood. The news about Osama Bin-Laden broke the night before and the partying-in-the-streets reaction to it had me feeling bummed out. Not to mention, I was tired from not getting any sleep at my mom’s house and sore from running Bloomsday. However, these are no excuses for what I did.

    I was flying Southwest Airlines and was in the C boarding group which means I had crap choices for seats. As I was walking down the aisle I noticed that there was a window seat open toward the end. When I finally made my way to the back I asked the woman sitting in the row if I could sit there. She replied, “I’m actually saving the seat, but you can sit in the aisle seat, that’s open.” So I plopped myself down in the aisle seat. I was annoyed. And as I thought about it I kind of got mad. I thought, “well. that’s not fair, saving seats for people. I could’ve had someone in an earlier boarding group save ME a window seat!”

    That’s the thought I stewed on for the next few seconds until a gentleman politely asked if the window seat was taken. The woman said, “Yes it is.” and I added “she’s saving it for someone.”

    Of course the woman got angry at me for my surly response. Of course. I would get angry with me. But did I care? no I did not. The whole thing wasn’t fair. And I told her. I said, “I didn’t think you could save seats for people on this airline.” (now, to my credit, I don’t think you can. But, honestly, that’s beside the point and really doesn’t matter.)

    Now this back and forth was done in a very passive aggressive, polite way. If that makes sense. Neither of us were yelling at each other or anything like that. We were just being kind of bitchy with each other. In a polite way.

    After a few moments of quiet she offered, “you know what? Do you want the window seat? I would be glad to offer it to  you.”

    “wow,” I thought. “What a nice gesture.” So I took her up on her offer and changed seats with her.

    That was a very. bad. idea.

    Her husband returned (the one she was saving the seat for) and sat down. As soon as he sat down she started talking to him about me, about how horrible I was. Really loudly and not discreetly at all. I kind of couldn’t believe it. I looked at her and thanked her for offering me the seat and I told her that I appreciated it, very much.

    But she kept at it. Just kept right on talking about what an awful person I was. I finally had to tell her to stop.  I really didn’t want to hear about how awful I was all the way back to Portland.

    Honestly, I’m not sure if she did because as soon as the plane took off and we were in the air the engine drowned out all other noise and I coudn’t hear their conversation.

    But as I sat there I really thought about the situation and what  happened. Frankly, I was miserable. I had gotten what I desired and I was fucking miserable. I was stuck in the window seat. Unable to  move at all. And I had these very hostile people sitting right next to me.

    I was tempted to just be pissed off at this woman. I mean she offered me the fucking seat! And then she decides she is going to complain and bitch about it the whole way? But, instead, I decided to step back and see what kind of lesson I could learn from the situation.

    In the end, I think this is a good lesson in the whole idea of desire and how it can lead to problems. I wanted that window seat (dammit) and because of it I got angry when I couldn’t have it. And when I got angry I acted on it and look what happened. cause and effect. Karma. I totally deserved what I got.

    The photo for today’s Photography Friday was taken this past weekend at Arbor Crest Winery. I hung out with some of my photographer friends and we took pictures for about an hour, and then we got rained out. It was fun, though! ♥

  • Bloomsday

    Cups
    Taken when I walked Bloomsday in 2007

    So. Bloomsday. Honestly? I kind of dreaded it. I was going to be by myself. I hadn’t been able to run more than a mile in a month. My heel had still been hurting me. I was really not sure I should even try it. But I hate wasting money and I had already paid for the registration. Yes, that was my motivation.

    The morning of the race I got up and turned on the news to check the weather conditions. It was 34 degrees outside. Ugh. I would have to wait for an hour for the race to start in freezing cold weather. Not good. But I was prepared. I wore my cold weather running gear and headed out.

    The wait ended up not being too bad. I stood around and people watched. I avoided the stupid ball throwing thing that they do at the start of the race every year. Then, just before my starting group (lilac) started walking to the starting line a woman next to me struck up a conversation. Apparently I “looked good (as opposed to evil) and she could sense that I would be a nice person to talk to.” And we had kind of an interesting conversation. She pretty much told me her life story (she had an ear defect when she was born and that’s why she wears hats all the time. She was married for 35  years to an abusive man). Then she started talking to me about Jesus and that’s when I decided that I would just break out in a run at the starting line  (I had originally planned on walking the first mile). So I politely said goodbye and good luck to the nice lady and started jogging, weaving in and out of the hundreds and hundreds of walkers around me (I started in the second to last group with all of the walkers).

    It was sometimes difficult to get through the throng and I had to be very creative at times. I ran on the sidewalk a lot of the race, annoying the neighbors who were perched there to watch the show.

    I let the momentum of the crowd keep me going. I felt pretty good. My foot didn’t hurt at all (I bought really good arch supports the day before) so I kept jogging. I ran slowly. Much slower than I’m used to. But I kept going. At first my goal was to just get past all of the walkers. Then I narrowed my goal down to running until I made it into the next color group. I kept looking around me for people with blue numbers. When I made it to Doomsday Hill I walked up the hill. Then, when I reached the top, I decided to continue jogging. I felt good, so why not? If nothing else I would get done faster by jogging.

    At this point I was getting hot (the sun came out and the temperature climbed to at least the 70s). We were now in a neighborhood, my favorite part of the race. This was the part when the neighbors cheered the racers on and it is a huge motivation boost. There were some partiers spraying water at the crowd and I ran to the water, eager to be cooled off. The drunk sprayer happily complied, aiming for the front of my shirt. nice guy!

    Not long after that I looked up and I saw that I was on mile 6! I thought “Holy shit! I just ran 6 miles!” and since I only had about a mile and a half left I pushed through. That last mile was rough. My feet and legs started hurting but I kept going and, finally I made it to the end.

    I made pretty good time, too. 1:42. Not too bad for someone who didn’t have very high hopes to begin with. I supposed I have that lady from the starting line to thank, since she was what spurred me to start running in the first place. And once I started the momentum kept me going.

    Here is my results page. I’m a little embarrassed about the picture of myself crossing the finish line but oh well, 🙂

  • Nirvana and art

    And it comes right down and lands on the ground and out comes a man from Mars..."

    I haven’t taken blog-worthy photo all week and so I’m posting one I took at the end of March at Wildwood. I edited the photos I took that day while listening to music, something I don’t do. I found it an interesting experience. Music and photography are two forms of art that touch me very deeply. It was really interesting to see how the song I was listening to affected the way I processed the photo. Each song changed the way I looked at the photo and influenced the decisions I made.

    This whole idea, the way another person’s art influences my art, is an idea I’ve been thinking about lately. Specifically within the context of Buddhism.

    This week at my zazen group we talked about the Third Nobel Truth: the cessation of dukka (suffering). Otherwise known as nirvana. The text we read was “What the Buddha Taught” and was very interesting to me. I had always had this vision of Nirvana as a place where Buddhists go after they have completed their karmic lessons. And I always pictured it in my mind as a kind of gaping void, which never appealed to me. However, this is not at all what nirvana is. Nirvana is something that is always there and that we always have access to, whether we are Buddhist or not. Buddhism provides a path to help you find nirvana, but, from what I’m understanding, you don’t have to be Buddhist to find it. It is hard to describe but I think I kind of understand it a little bit. I think I’ve had glimpses of it in my life now and then. I think that moment on Mt. Hood was a brief glimpse of nirvana. I think that when I watch the sunset over the ocean and feel like I’m having a religious experience, because it is so beautiful, that is a brief glimpse of nirvana.

    I think that when we create art we are working from that place. Or anytime we use our intuition, we are tapping into it. I have called it “that thing that connects us all together” for lack of understanding.

    I think that when we experience art and are affected by somebody’s creation we are experiencing a glimpse of nirvana, too. During our discussion Wednesday night the analogy of a river was used and I think it’s excellent. Nirvana is like a river and when we are experiencing, and affected by, art we are dipping our toes in that river.

    Honestly, I’m still learning about all of this and don’t claim to have the answers. But this idea has been rattling around in my head and I felt like sharing.

  • Hurdles

    Hurdles
    Bloomsday is this Sunday. I’m signed up for it and will be there. Will i run it? The whole thing? Probably not. I’m going to try my best but I won’t be able to run the entire race. This is such a disappointment. I was so excited with my running a month ago. The last time I was in Spokane I was up to 4.5 miles, the farthest I had run in a long time. I ran the Centennial Trail downtown in my Vibrams. I felt pretty good until I finished my run and I had to limp back to the car. The rest of the weekend I could barely put weight on my foot. I almost made a trip to urgent care.

    After doing a bit of research I realized it was/is plantar fasciitis. So this past month I’ve been taking it easy. I haven’t really run in the past month. Not significantly. I’ve been running a mile here and there to see how it feels but it is still hurting when I run and I don’t want to aggravate it.

    I relented and bought myself a pair of old-school running shoes last weekend. Saucony, my old stand-by. I’m not sure the Vibrams are for me. I’ve read elsewhere on the web that others have developed plantar fasciitis after running in Vibrams, so it’s not just me. I have abnormally high arches, so maybe this has something to do with it? I don’t know. But I do know that I’m back to running shoes. It’s disappointing. I wanted this minimalist shoe thing to work for me. I do enjoy the experience very much.