Blogger wants me to blog.

I've tried to write a few sentences a few times now and realize that I'm too tired to say anything myself. Blogger wants me to continue, so I will.
I will type something from "The Stanislavsky System:"

The Stanislavsky System follows the laws of nature. In life, concentration is not isolated from the human act. Therefore, concentration should not be practiced separately from an action. Fulfill an action with adequate concentration. Always build the circumstances in which actions are fulfilled, possibly based on an analogous situation in your life. Know what you do, why you do it, where, when...

'The Four Hundred Blows' and auteur theory

I have left for myself tonight to work on a paper for my class in Film History. The topic I chose was how does auteur theory apply to the work of Truffaut and two of his films: 'The 400 Blows' and 'The WIld Child.' Both of these films have children in starring roles with Truffaut himself playing 'the doctor' in 'The Wild Child.' Auteur as doctor...as teacher...scientist?

This is helping me to start thinking in terms of how to write about film which can be narrative and Beckett-like. Truffaut watched thousands of films and was a film critic before he became a director, an auteur. He is such a perfectionist. Even his English in 'The Wild Child' is well-pronounced without the slightest accent of French. Supposedly he felt he had difficulty with English.

The brain and the stars and autism and that...

I am very lucky that a task that was required of someone two times was only asked of me once. Every teacher in the school where I work was required to decorate/create interesting hallway billboards..elementary style and to do two of them. I know that every teacher in the school knows what a hard time I'm having this year. They don't care that I'm the only one not doing two billboards but only one.

The brain and 'ability awareness' came to mind when thinking about how to approach this project. Since the majority of students in my room are 'on the spectrum,' otherwise known as having some degree more or less of autism. Neuroscience became my topic. It doesn't matter that the board is in the kindergarten area. The fourth and third graders pass by it. I'm hoping it will stimulate someone into studying the brain of a child with cerebral palsy or autism. Dividing the brain up into jobs, as it were. The occipital lobe governs vision, for instance. We have a child in the school who is blind. He is learning to use the cane stick for walking. Kids must wonder what it must be like to be blind and they have no concept of what autism might mean as well as cognitive 'impairment.'

Tonight I went out to buy teacher border decorations. I found some cool, colorful stars with green clovers--no, there were just stars of all hues with glitter inside. I think after this one they may never ask me to do one again! This one will be an eye-popper. There will even be a huge eye on it. Some of the information I got from www.sciencebob.com.

Taxes and the why-forever-for?

Many cities in the U.S. don't have sales tax. San Francisco has an almost 10% tax on everything--including cell phone usage. This weekend and for some part of this week I have had to deal with the tax miasma. I'm not seeing the benefits of these taxes. This money is being spent on military items: nuclear warheads, bombs of all sorts and components, artillery and etc.

So tonight I will pick up my taxes over in Berkeley and see a friend who doesn't want to watch my Truffaut film. So I will go over there and deal with being there and wishing I could go to the ashram. Unfortunately, the ashram experienced mud slides this week that would prevent people from coming tonight. They're holding the meditation at a school nearby to the ashram. Since I'm depressed about going back to work at an elementary school, I can't face going to a school tonight. So, I'm in the words of one of my ashram friends, "I'm taking care of business." Busy-ness. Maybe I'll try to make it a meditation rather than a drudge.

An up-to-date look at my vacation.

Time spent mainly wanting in sleep. Very tired. Everything's a chore. Shot some video today. I learned that I have still so much to learn about videography. How to place to the figure in the shot with the best camera angle to the light. Etc.

Did I mention I saw the film version of 'Tristram Shandy''? It was very past post modern as it tried to re-create its subject/story.

Now I will return to Antoine Doinel in another of his film debuts. Somehow I feel that I have to return some energy to my spiritual nature and guidance by watching a video of Amma so I can return it to the person who bought it. Actually, I'm very angry that I have to go to the school where I work Friday morning at 11 a.m. to help a parent get a wheel-chair our of the building. In nine years of working at the place, this has never happened on my vacation. I went to the school today (Thursday)
to help self-same parent, but the custodian was at some meeting at another site so we couldn't get in.

I feel this vacation has been full so far. Full like my tummy. I going out to eat and to clubs a little. It feels like I'm visiting friends I haven't seen for a long time because I'm catching up with them. They think I should look for other jobs. I know I should look for another job. Would someone help me find another job?

KPFA and my sense of the 'news'

While I was driving over to Berkeley today, I should have been listening to KPFA. My new car cd player defaults to the radio, and
so I do tend to listen to it more than I usually might. I find KPFA's perspective to be very close to my own, so I don't have to
bother my mind and emotions by listening to a radio show I don't agree with or makes me uneasy.

Tonight I finished 'Stolen Kisses' (;'Baisers voles'). I watched it in three or four different segments. The film is episodic somewhat and in many ways brilliant. Relationships are once again features. I love French films for this reason: most of it still
is a kind of realism that has philosophical overtones. One can't forget that 'Stolen Kisses' was made in 1968. Truffaut is not
widely held as a policial/socio-economic/community-spirited type of artist. But there is social commentary along with the fact
that the bosses wife gets her way and sleeps with him--once. He moves on/back to the girlfriend he has had since the beginning. In having watched Truffaut's 'The English Girls' I would say he has certain ideas about beauty that are not hard to
miss. Perhaps his political stance has something to do with his predictable choice of feminine beauty representatives: Michelangelos's Venus pops out of her shell at me.

I also worked at my friend's shop for the Internet on getting images of the brain, eyes, mouth, cerebral palsy, autism, etc. These pictures will be part of my contribution to a bulletin board in the hallway of the school. I decided not to dumb down to the students but really give the older ones somthing to think about.

I should be on vacation somewhere in Asia. Instead I am working! Still I'm enjoying have the emotional and spiritual space to create new things in my life.

The wanting some space and renting a room.

I bought some stargazers for the full moon. From my Thai friends, I found out this is also Thai New Year. They are so beautiful, these flowers. This full moon feels very powerful. Ways of relating are changing and evolving and de-volving, but
relationships are definitely dazzlingly lit for this full moon period.

My the wind in my mind wants to wander. I've watched at least one film per day, and topping off so far at two in the theatre,
one at home days. Today I'm finishing watching another Truffaut film with Jean-Pierre Lelaud in 'Stolen Kisses.' It's a 'who dunnit' kind of with tongue very deeply wound into the cheek.

I suppose I've finished my tea. I should make some more. I'll write more tonight.

Amma's Ashram in San Ramon.

There are twisting-turny roads to get there. Many ranches lie on one side of the highway. The other side may be dotted with
sheep or cows or just Scottish-green grass. Lots of frogs croak over the same amount of crickets. Two swan swim, unweathered, in the lake surrounded by lotus plants, not yet in bloom. The moon is like a bald man's half dome, sitting above the clouds. Clapping and singing accompanied by tabla and harmonium muffle through the trees.

This is the ashram of Mata Amritanandamayi, Amma, this night. We left around 11:00 am, and here I am writing a little more
than two hours later. The talk was missed tonight. Last week we got there at the same time and someone was still talking. The emphasis was on meditation, prayer, giving of thanks and feeling the swell of Spring in our hearts.

Absent, as I had thought would be, was the Gnome. Supposedly he started a job at a restaurant and has to work on Saturday nights now. Someone we know from Love of Ganesha previously was absent tonight, too. He probably is trying to make it with her. She never misses the Saturday ashram event. But I am merely an observer; what he does no longer concerns me. I wish him well but cannot be his friend. I must move on and try to meet other people. I am always the one who meets people but doesn't connect with any of them. Why do I have to go out with someone my age? At the ashram there are a few guys in my
age bracket, but I'm left cold by American guys unless they're dark in some way--the eyes or the hair or something. Also I think guys with shoulder-length hair should grow dreads. Especially guys over 40. I the guy is bald, he has to have attentive eyes. Mark and I are friends. He has attentive eyes. But he's only 26. I do like him as a person and consider him to be a good friend. He brought his artist friend from the nuthouse again tonight. I am very curious to see this man's art. He makes great claims to having retired at 25 or 26. I think Mark enjoys hearing stories from this person about art and what it was like when he
was Mark's age in the late '50's early '60's. He is harmless and sometimes funny. Laughter is about all that's left!

Back to cupcakes.

Tonight I officially start my one-week Spring Break. Yes. What plans. I need to sleep first before thinking. There is much to do
and so little money to do it with. At least the ashram is free. I plan to take the Gnome off his pedestal and put him in the flesh.
Why I still think about him at all is troubling. I haven't met anyone since the Indian guy from Staten Island who calls me after 12am on the weekend and with whom I haven't connected for a date or anything (we just had chai one evening when we met). He doesn't like my nose ring. He said, "I'd love to see you all dolled up and take that nose ring out..." This weekend I plan to see the film 'I am a Sex Addict.' There is much temptation in meeting the Indian guy. I could have sex with him and not regret it. He even said that he wants me "for a girlfriend for a while." Maybe the Buddha would have given the best advice on this one. Help me, you Alan Watts lovers.

Ganesh wil help me decide.

My Saturday nights have been taken up by going to to the M.A. Center, Amma's ashram, in San Ramon/Castro Valley. There have been some complications to the journey. Actually there has been one impediment toward going there for me: my ex-lover comes along with our group. He started coming last Saturday and was there this Saturday. I spoke to him more than I did last week. I feel so stupid. He is as superficial as I was when I was 24. It's the age when one most comes into contact with the concept of growing older. One moves out of the demographic. No longer considered close to a a teenager. Why I'm making excuses for him I have no idea. I think I love him even though I don't like him.

This scenario is called karmic. There is more to the picture than just two people, one rejecting the other as a lover. There is/are past event(s) that cause the two people to never consumate a long lost love (as in the concept of 'soulmate'). The connection between me and him is there; it's real. Whether he cares a damn about it when he doesn't see me, only he can say. But others who know him say that he's completely involved in himself and doesn't care about my feelings anymore. These people are probably right. I need help in deciding whether to forego going to the ashram for a while until he finds a new lover. I feel then he'll stop going to the ashram when Amma is not there.

For the moment I have to stress on going back to work tomorrow. I've had three wonderful days off. Even seeing him at the ashram and feeling the tears today, no emotional pain can outdo the physical and emotional pain of early-rising and having to do something one doesn't want to do. Sometimes I think about the children, but I don't long to go back to the routine of teaching as it is.

I feel petty, oh so petty, it's alarming how petty i feel

I take it all back. The encounter at the ashram was not really a blessed event. It was a blessed event, but I am confused. Right after the Prophet hugged me so tenderly, another person asked him for a hug. I call him the Prophet now, because his name has to do with some Judaic religion's version of a prophet. When I was in my early twenties, I lived with a guy whose friend used to call him The Prophet. He actually meant The Prophet, i.e., the The Prophet of Islam. But that is another story that I might get to in some round-about way.
Actually, calling him the Pee would link him to Pee Wee, and I don't want to do that. Why don't I just call him by the name of young boy, since he is such an ageist. Let's call him the Gnome, because sometimes he reminds me of a gnome. I happen to like gnomes quite alot.
In any case, my friend asked him for a hug. He gave her a peck-like kiss and an awkward hug to the shoulders. I think he was so blown away that he kissed her that he didn't know what to do. I haven't seen any of the guys in our group of people who inhabit The Love of Ganesha ever kiss this woman on the lips. What do I know? I know how I feel: still confused and wondering why I'm dwelling in the realm of the Green-headed Monster. Which is the way to the land of Shrek?

We were only trying to get gas but the gunshots...

Saturday night I went to the ashram with my friends. I usually pick people up from Love of Ganesha. When I got up to Haight Street I noticed that my ex-lover, the Nicaraguan guy, was standing outside. I thought, "Oh, is he driving up with me?" There was little to be said between us. He said hello to me and I to him. The awkwardness of the moment was offset by the fact that there was someone else driving so he could go with her. Good. The two people who rode with me I consider very good friends. They listened as I spoke about what had happened after the ashram in November between me and him. I haven't thought of a good name for him yet. Perhaps I will turn this into a faerie novel. The faeries reunite on another plane of existence only to find that ageism and economic circumstance keep them apart.
and competition again: he had to ask me how my life was going. I said good, he said great. What is the purpose of this? Ego warming? The poor ego is lying in its nest needing more warmth, the warmth of put-downs? We did have a meaningful hug, however. He took my face in his hands and put it next to his face and held it there for about two minutes. All our friends were very happy that we could come to some form of love expression. I was happy, too, but the next day I felt sad.
Oh, I forgot about the shootings. When we got back to the city at about 2 a.m. we were near the EndUp bar on 5th and Harrison. There were about 20 people standing in line, all guys. I needed to get some gas, and there was a huge half-block gas station nearby. But we heard about 3 or more gunshots, saw three guys running away, a get-a-way car and a man covered in blood. I still wanted to get some gas, but my friends talked me out of it! If only I could see danger more clearly and be really protective of myself.

Pee Wee and Spanish

I'm supposed to be doing my Spanish homework. This online class is something I've been avoiding for weeks now and am incredulously behind! Meanwhile, 'Pee Wee's Great Adventure' is on the comedy channel. Yeah. I haven't seen (heard--I'm listening to it as I type) this film in such a long time. Will Pee Wee make a comeback--oh, please!
Yes. We need Pee Wee to point out the uselessness of seeing ourselves as separate from our world. Pee Wee had his own world on the show, this is true. But people came over, he had friends, and the whole time this show was being broadcast at 9 a.m. on Saturday mornings, most of us were still asleep. On the rare occasion that I got to see the show, I was uplifted. I didn't watch much tv at that time, and I would watch Pee Wee and 'Showtime at the Apollo.' Get up early to stay up late!
I have nothing much to add to any existential or Freudian reading of my subjects. Can't stop thinking about Spanish and have to leave Sarte or Milton or Dave Chapelle behind.

Pee Wee and Spanish

I'm supposed to be doing my Spanish homework. This online class is something I've been avoiding for weeks now and am incredulously behind! Meanwhile, 'Pee Wee's Great Adventure' is on the comedy channel. Yeah. I haven't seen (heard--I'm listening to it as I type) this film in such a long time. Will Pee Wee make a comeback--oh, please!
Yes. We need Pee Wee to point out the uselessness of seeing ourselves as separate from our world. Pee Wee had his own world on the show, this is true. But people came over, he had friends, and the whole time this show was being broadcast at 9 a.m. on Saturday mornings, most of us were still asleep. On the rare occasion that I got to see the show, I was uplifted. I didn't watch much tv at that time, and I would watch Pee Wee and 'Showtime at the Apollo.' Get up early to stay up late!
I have nothing much to add to any existential or Freudian reading of my subjects. Can't stop thinking about Spanish and have to leave Sarte or Milton or Dave Chapelle behind.

Twisted Sister rocks.

"I wanna rock! duh duh duh duh duh DUH duh....Yeah, Twisted Sister. A favorite band of mine, I no longer own any of their
music on records. They became the property of the guy I was living with at that time. We were both punk/metal/heads.
Except I had a few degrees. I worked at a flower shop. What a beautiful occupation. However, I have my moments when I
feel that plucking flowers is a killing act. Amma speaks about this. One has to us discrimination to know when to cut flowers
or support them by buying them.

Meanwhile, I felt like blogging. There was just a documentary on about Tito Puente and his band. They played in San Francisco
for 50 years. I think Tito Puente died recently. He was responsible for putting the rhythm section in the front of the band
during performances. One couldn't help but move. I saw them many times.

I've been thinking tonight about one of my old boyfriends. I love Cuban music (as well as Bossa Nova), and he played trumpet. I hadn't t hought about him in a long time. I saw him two years ago. He know where I live. It's weird how one can put someone
totally out of the mind or, in this case, the litany of boyfriends and loves. Maybe it's time to be at the cherry blossom ball, recalling past love and dancing bliss. Let it flow out to the Ganges in astral time.

It's freezing. I feel cold. But I want to travel, that's it.

Today is one of those holidays in which one gets to travel. Now one can travel anytime, right? Just got to turn on the television or see a film or fall asleep and dream. I may be in one of those dream states right now due to the extreme cold I feel. San Franciso dwellings are known for there "airiness"--a lack of warm air. So, my brain has shut down due to the frigid temperature, it has taken all it can and has closed down. That is how easy it is to write a blog like mine. I just write whenever my brain has shut down.
Meanwhile, I wish I could travel to a warm place...like India, VietNam, Mexico and wherever it's HOT (except Hawaii--little islands in the midst of vast ocean scare me). Instead, I have turned on the heater. My fingers are warm enough for typing.
And then back again to travelling: today is St. Padraic's day in Ireland and the U.S.A. (the us part doesn't include me) and other places where people speak English or Gaelic and like to drink alcohol. Tonight I'm taking my good friend from Mumbai to an I.R.A. bar in the city. It's really hardcore. There's one in Berkeley called The Starry Plough--lovely name. What do I mean by an I.R.A. bar? Let's just say people talk alot of politics and philosophy in these bars. Sounds kind of boring, huh? Yeah, since we both just drink cranberry juice, there's no room for any more boredom.
For some real fun we plan to go to the local bar on Mission Street where they play Siouxsie and the Banshees and the The Cult and stuff like that. I have a crush on the one of the owners. He is Latino. Will my Indian friend be in the way? I hope he meets someone to talk to. We're both looking for relationships. Feel sorry for us. Then meditate and pray that we too might enjoy some of the pleasures of conjoining with another human. What else might one want to do (if they haven't done that already!)?

Back to the Ashram

Last evening I went out to Amma's (www.amma.org) ashram in Castro Valley. I had alot of passengers this time. There were
still many people at this satsang which wasn't a festival celebration day like Shivaratri. It is very uplifting to go there. The swami talked about "the past." He said that Amma says the "past is like a bounced check." It is karma and dharma at the same time. It's best to let the past go and consider it paid, as it were. For me this is quite important since I am an incest survivor with many sources of invalidation in my family and past loves. There are so many times that one memory will lead to another, and they're usually negative or invalidating for me. I've tried and I'm still trying to let these thoughts drop off me and be carried by a gentle wind that takes them away. Not very poetic this evening, sorry. Oh, that's a negative thought. Critical. I studied literary criticism at UC Berkeley which has always been a decent school. The school of life calls now. I've got to accept what is and then notice what could be changed. Zen. Cupcakes. Monty Python is on. Jaya Ganesh. That "Academy Awards" stuff is really disgusting.
There are all these people on television and in film who are completely overpaid and keep all their money to themselves. What do they have to offer? I've digressed.
A man has a tape recorder up his nose.

Yesterday was Shivaratri

Saturday, February 25th was Shivaratri, a Hindu celebration of Lord Shiva, god of destruction/creation. Actually, in India, everyone had celebrated the day before (due to time differences, of course). I went with two friends from Love of Ganesha out to San Ramon to be with the people of Amma's ashram for this auspicious occasion. We left at 5pm and got there at about 6:15pm. The festivities had not begun yet, fortunately. We missed the chanting of the 1,000 names of Amma, though. We did chant the 108 names of Amma and then heard a talk by one of her swamis about Shiva and his own personal relationship with Amma.
He recounted that when he first became a devotee of Amma he was accepted into one of India's most prestigious film schools. He said that over 500 people would apply every year and that only 20 would be chosen to attend the school each year. (I was really wondering what kinds of films he had made or what the criteria was for this film school, but he didn't get into that.) He was accepted and hoped that Amma would manifest a film camera for him. He approached her several times and got no answer. He then asked her what kind of seva (selfless service) he could do at the ashram. She wouldn't give him an answer. Finally she told him that his seva was to clean up the "cowshit." He had to milk the cows and feed them. He did this task for about a month when he decided that "Amma had not recognized (his) godliness, and therefore he wasn't going to do this seva anymore. He came outside later than usual, and he discovered that Amma was out there cleaning up the cowshit and caring for the cows. He felt really bad and related his experience to how Shiva helps destroy certain aspects of the ego to allow us to be something

Happy Birthday to Me.

It's not really my birthday. Actually, I thought it was still Saturday and the birthday of my former lover would have been happening. This is the guy I felt a strong karmic connection with. He drives me to write ungrammatically, so bear with me, please. The odd thing is that it's not only he who makes me feel uncomfortable but the other people I work with at Love of Ganesha also. Last night there was a birthday party for the owner. The owner doesn't like parties. She sat the whole time with her husband at a table away from everyone else. I had to sit at the same table as this ex-lover (the one from Nicaragua). It was a nightmare. He waved at me 5 seats away and didn't even call out my name as though he had forgotten it. I wasn't about to set up more bad karma, so I said hello. "How are you?" he said. I said, "Good, how are you." "Oh, very good." The compeition was on. I decided to give him a friendly/sarcastic thumbs up and said, "Good for you."

Actually, I'm too tired to think about this stupid stuff. I'm sick of getting treated badly by men. Only one has been recently half-way honest and kind. I'm not going to mention what a woman said at the party to get at me about this guy. Her story will fall under the category of "Why Civilization is so Uncivilized?" and the role women play in making men moe stupid and themselves more petty.

What's 'a mattah with Petah?

Has anyone watched and wondered at "The Family Guy?" It is too hilarious to the point of being sanely absurd. I'm wondering which character you most identify with:

Thanks for thinking about this. I'll reveal my secret character generator later.

(It was another difficult Monday to wake up to!!!!!)