We chanted on Planet Glee

I'm still going down to Market and Valencia on Friday nights to be the hostess twinkie on Planet Glee. Sometimes I am a complete airhead on the show, but humor always rules in the end.

Lately, I have had some writers on the show. Usually the show ROCKS (I saw rocks on Mars in a book at UCSF library one time). Planet Glee is close to Jupiter and wants to join Venus and the rest of the benevolents in a modern dance. No, not necessarily Martha Graham or Alonzo King, but having much in common with them.

That said I have to get to the point of this blog: chanting...chanting a Tibetan mantra...om mani padme om. My guest, Margarita Wildman, had just read another one of her poems that is spiritual from the core of human sufferinng and experience. This woman should write an autobiography I want to read it.

Meanwhile, I've mentioned the book by Sakyong Mipham, RULING YOUR WORLD in the blog before. Actually, just in case a guest doesn't show, I'm ready to do the show by myself. I always bring the Mipham book. There is a book on Tantra by Georg Feuerstein that I also read at the same time last fall when I first read Mipham. Compassion and love are so enigmatic and amorphous yet so truly felt when expressed. Discipline has much to do with cultivating a life predispositioned to love and compassion.

THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR by Gogol

About seven years ago I found the novel DEAD SOULS by Nikolai Gogol at a garage sale. I paid one dollar for it. This is perhaps one of my favorite works of literature, even though I've had to read it in translation. Gogol is one of the funniest, wittiest, beautiful storytellers I've read.

San Francisco's A.C.T. was putting one of Gogol's plays on this week. I have read this play which is called THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR. The title sounds droll, I think. But the play is as political as it is funny. From the program notes, it is mentioned that Gogol consulted with Pushkin on the storyline. Nonetheless, the play is, Gogol.

There is a huge ray of light on the characters in the first scene of the play. They are being revealed as bumbly among this brightness, running into each other as they enter the rook that has skewed walls, windows and staircases. The huge grey table in the middle of the state is mocking stage or platform for the politicians of the town and the person they are told might be the Government Inspector who--they had been warned--would investigate their town.

How Gogol becomes a great writer, to me, is his way of drawing links between the players in the play and the play itself. The play would not exist without the players. Gogol draws attention to this connection between the power structure within the play and its concomitant, mundane, "civil" component.

THE DIVING BELL AND THE BUTTERFLY and THE MOTHER AND THE WHORE

Yesterday I saw THE DIVING BELL AND THE BUTTERFLY and was really moved by it. The initial scenes were hard for me to watch because they are so blurry even though it was clear that the camera was the "eye" of the man who had had a major stroke and was waking up out of a coma. The film was based on a book written by the person who had experienced all this challenge in becoming paralyzed and completely dependent.

The acting, like in all French films, was superb. I love the casting that is done in France. Good acting is much more important than great make-up jobs. Max von Sydow did look extremely handsome and overall, I would say I went to see this film primarily for the visuals. I knew there would have to be many dream sequences and some surreal staging and moments.

I never disliked Julian Schnabel's paintings. I suppose one reaches a limit with painting "greatly" like he had done in the past. Using a new medium and twisting many camera angles, Schnabel demonstrated that painting and drawing are the mothers of the arts.

Speaking of mothers, I saw THE MOTHER AND THE WHORE this past week, having rented it from the video store. (It was on VHS--I don't have a dvd player.) This is a French film as well. It doesn't hurt that I adore Jean-Pierre Leaud (I don't think I've commented on the film he did with Catherine Breillat). This film was 4 hours long. I watched it over three evenings. Actually, I watched Part 11 first and then Part !. So I already knew how the film was to "end." I couldn't say anything that would really convey how brilliant this film is.

Both the DIVING BELL AND THE BUTTERFLY and THE MOTHER AND THE WHORE beg the viewer for answers. The answers have to do with questions of love, superficiality, spirituality and the abstraction of the ego.

Trying to consider nested cycles and yoga.

My flash animation class requires alot more time than I had thought it would. There are some concepts I don't grasp yet, like the nested cycle. We are doing buttons right now, and I'm thinking that the button is like a nested cycle. This shows how much I know about Flash.

But, actually, I'm looking forward in this next interactivity project to do something that relates to my own work. I have some video shot over two years ago that I want to use with the character in my project. They are both black cats. I know it is "cute' to do cats, but actually, I think some cats are very funny.

Meanwhile, I should be doing some yoga.

Holland and St. Patrick's Day

St. Patrick's Day parade in Dublin, Ireland part of a five-day festival; over 500,000 people attended the 2006 parade. The largest St. Patrick's Day parade is held in New York City and it is watched by over 2 million spectators. The St. Patrick's Day parade was first held in Boston in 1761, organized by the Charitable Irish Society. New York's celebration began on 18 March 1762 when Irish soldiers in the British army marched through the city.[citation needed] The predominantly French-speaking Canadian city of Montréal, in the province of Québec has the longest continually running Saint Patrick's day parade in North America, since 1824.[4] The city's flag has the Irish emblem, the shamrock, in one of its corners. Ireland's cities all hold their own parades and festivals. These cities include Dublin, Cork, Belfast, Derry, Galway, Kilkenny, Limerick, and Waterford. Parades also take place in other Irish towns and villages.
--Wikipedia

I was eating at a restaurant in which one of my friends works, and a couple under 65 sat at the table next to me. The language they were speaking sounded familiar to me, but as I have noticed about many European visitors to San Francisco, in public, they speak very softly. About ten minutes past, and my friend came over just as I asked the couple, "Spreek je Nederlans (sp)? It turns out that they did, and we started talking about how much I love Holland and how I lived in Groningen for a while and etc.

Eventually I told them that I have an E.U. passport given to me by the country of Eire, or Ireland. So, they had just been to the St. Patrick's Day Parade in San Francisco today. Now, they asked me, since you're Irish, can you tell just who is Saint Patrick?

I am such a complete space. When I was at the university, I almost studied Gaelic. But today I couldn't remember who St. Patrick "was." I told them some b.s. and got St. Patrick mixed up with--I think it is--Saint George...and I've been studying Hinduism and Buddhism and have forgotten alot about Christianity.

There must be common knowledge to every culture, I suppose. I'll remember who Bobby Sands was before I'll be able to tell anyone about why San Francisco and other other cities have parades for Saint Patrick of Ireland.

I told them I thought the holiday was just another commercial one for the U.S. They agreed, and then they said that Irish dancing is commercial. I'm not sure I agree with that. Dance is a form of art that transcends commercialism. The Dutch are well-known for their incredible painters: Van Gogh, Rembrandt, de Kooning. The Irish are well-known for their contributions to music and performance. I just told them, " Ireland doesn't have much of an economy." and they said it was--to them--a place that was still backward. No wonder I couldn't remember who St. Patrick is supposed to be.

Planet Glee rocked again.

I have so much fun when there's a musical guest on the show. So far, the musicians who have been on are new and raw. Last night's guest was a total trip. He calls himself "The Father J. O'Brien." I asked him where the "father" came from. He said it had to do with a group of friends in San Diego, and then he blurted what he was called before and it had some usually-unheard-on-tv words in it. We were on Planet Glee again.

The Father J. O'Brien is in his mid-twenties sings with the wisdom of someone with more life experience. An old soul with an incredible voice (deep like Tom Waits but also with something else--something a J. Mascis voice of inner knowledge and common sense.

We had fun jamming, too. And, we got two callers!! The second caller invited Father J. O'Brien to play at her party on Page Street tonight. She also said that "Miss Planet Glee" could join him on tabla. I thought it was funny and really great.

I missed Shivaratri tonight.

Somehow I thought that 2008 might be a good year. What I mean by "good year" is that I'm not so depressed, work is not so depressing, I've found a new place to live, I have a new boyfriend, I possibly have a new job, I have new friends and I'm not so depressed all the time. So far, 2008 has marked a new low in my energy level. I require much more sleep than I did three months ago to function and to feel energetic somewhat.

I thought that 2007 was a decent year. Work was quite difficult (as usual) but this year work seems worse (if that is possible!!!). I have two new assistants and all the students run all over the place. They spill things, put their hands in their bowel-movement-filled diapers, come in the door at 8:30 a.m. screaming at the top of their lungs (I have had a student like this kind before), require that everything be done for them, run off from the group while walking to the breakfast, lunch or elevator areas... The other teachers at the school used to dislike me because I had a decent amount of assistance (at least three assistants or more) and predominantly children in wheelchairs who didn't run around constantly.

What remains unsaid is that I am exhausted. The job is draining beyond belief. Last night I had a psychedelic dream and woke up wondering if I had ACTUALLY had a happy dream. I couldn't sleep well after that. (Yes, the price of "happiness.")

So, tonight, a Wednesday night and my only night in which I don't have a commitment, a Shivaratri celebration and chanting fest is going on at Amma's ashram in San Ramon. My friends asked me to go. All I had to do was drive myself up to upper Haight and back at around midnight. The headlight on my car first went out 4 years ago. Somehow my landlord glued the part of the casing that kept the lamp dry. About 5 weeks ago, the bulb blew out for the first time in 4 years. Last weekend, the bulb blew out again.

I HATE being stopped by U.S. police or other government "enforcers." Actually, the last time I got stopped by a cop was in upper Haight in 2006 for having a brake light out. The cop held onto my driver's license and was talking on the phone for about 10 minutes. This really unnerved me. Somehow I know that Amma's grace would help through any situation, but I find it hard to break through my mundance experience and feelings surrounding freedom. Despite the fact that the route is pre-set, there is more freedom to be found in riding the bus than driving a car! I keep thinking I'm going to get stopped by a cop and really lose my patience or get into an accident due to exhaustion. So, here I am sitting at home. It's time to meditate and go to sleep. I wish everyone a blessed evening.

Listening to The Smiths and this week, among other things.

For the past week, I've felt weird, because I've had a sinus infection and a cold. There seem to be things that go wrong when one is not "well," I suppose. The littlest annoyance has univeral and cosmic significance.

Meanwhile, back in August I discovered a Morrissey cd at the thrift store. The cd is called "Bona Drag." In any case, I got into listening to his lyrics and melodies. When The Smiths were happening in the eighties, I wasn't into them AT ALL. I was a complete and total punk girl. No frilly Smiths for me, thank you. I suppose if I could have gotten past their style (not fast or hard enough for me then), I could have listened to lyrics that were, in fact, quite political and addressed alot of issues about love and death, among other things.

I bought "Meat is Murder" a month or so ago. It has a young British soldier on the cover replicated four times into a square. Respect for all life forms is more than evident in this cd. I could go on, but I'm not typing very well right now. M Ore later.

Planet Glee is punk--if you want!

Tonight found me in the Flash studio at accessf for another production of Planet Glee. I brought a Ganesh with me, because I couldn't find my bag with the crystals I usually use. Of course, Ganesh brought many blessings to the show.

Although my guest admitted he was nervous at the beginning of the show, all was told and not told on the show tonight. My guest was a friend of mine, Dave Taub, who has studied comedy at a comedy school here in San Francisco. He is a funny guy, and we had alot of larfs this evening.

I didn't know that his schtick was going to be the US presidential election. He flatly told me on air that he was voting for himself for president and he wasn't taking any donations to his campaign. It went on for a while. The political system in this country is abominably inhumane. But do I want to talk about that on Planet Glee?

You were correct if you wrote "NOTA." That's what one of my family said when they referred to the February California elections.

And, meanwhile, we got three callers! It was memorable. The people who called in were not rude or drunk or something. They were sincere and honest and were thinking about justice and peace and desirable states of being. I felt so honored that they were watching my show. It is kind of a punk meets new age alternitiva.

For the musical portion of the show, Dave sang a medley of songs about peace while I tried to play four/four on my tabla. It was really hilarious.

Another Planet Glee evening.

It seems that all I feel like writing about is the show. I still haven't returned the broken DVD player, so I haven't watched any of the films I want to review like Faute a Fidel, for example.

Meanwhile, the show was really fun. I was worried that it was becoming more like a job than something really inspiring. But I met two musicians this past Friday whom I liked a lot.

Back in December I put out an ad in craigslist for musicians for a cable tv show. I got about 10 responses only. Some of the music was not what I would want to feature on my show. SO, I did respond to someone whose music is atmospheric and ambient. He is from the band Five-Eyed Hand. (They have a really cool logo, by the way.) He brought with him a spoken-word/singer who wrote about the Buddha with sincerity and movement.

These two thoughtful performers were on this past Friday night. And, as I couldn't have guessed, a caller on PCP (seemingly) called to "sing" with the guitar through the phone. I decided to let it happen. Actually, I thought the caller was a friend of one of the musicians. The caller started going on about defecation and sexual acts, and I thought, this is Planet Glee... But the guy was not a friend of the musicians. Even so, he kept calling.

We had fun anyway...

What a weird and wonderful night.

Another edition of Planet Glee took place this evening. I dropped off my car at the garage on Valencia to leave it until tomorrow. I hope major things are not wrong with it. Taking the bus can be difficult!!! Tonight I walked six blocks on Valencia from 16th to 23rd--no bus in sight.

Meanwhile the show went ok. I need to get a refresher on the Flash studio course. I don't know how to turn on the cameras nor the monitor. Tonight the person who helps me get set up was sick. I had to type in the character generator. My guest was sitting there while I was typing her name in. She could see in the monitor what her name looked like. After I got home (along the way a local Bernal guy asked me for Bro Jud's phone number--I didn't give it to him because he was drunk), my guest called to say that her last name was this and not that.

It's all good, is what I have to say about it. At first, after I had listened to the message, I thought, "But you were sitting right there--couldn't you have corrected me then?" But it's nobody's fault. As Bro Jud would say: it was cosmic humor.

All the while I've been missing some good films, and I still don't have a dvd player. That is why I have not reviewed any films in a while. Because most people are celebrating Chinese New Year, and because I can make masks, a teacher at the school where I work asked me to make a mask of Father Heaven and one of Father Earth.

She could have at least have given me materials. I should have asked for them. I really have my own art projects to do. But I feel that I can use the masks in my portfolio of art I didn't get paid to do. I am hoping that my payment will be in receiving a new assistant in addition to the ones I have working with me on the job!

Planet Glee was a huge larf.

Friday night saw another version of the SF Live call-in show Planet Glee. Friday night must bring it out in those of us who consider Saturday and Sunday the "weekend." Anyway, Bro Jud Presmont was my guest along with his friend and filmmaker Larry Sweetman. I have known Bro Jud for years. I have been on The Bro Jud on Love Energy show for years. It was the first time that I was interviewing Jud on my own show--as it were!

Bro Jud's adage, "if it ain't fun, it won't get done" was in full force that evening. Every guest I've had has worried about what we're going to talk about. I worry that no one will call in to ask a question or liven up the show. After all, everything is political, and that's Planet Glee's message.

Larry Sweetman had returned recently from Ecuador with a film production ensemble from Oakland. Together they documented the ravaging of the rainforest and its effects on the people who live there by American oil companies. Now this Planet Glee guest is to document Bro Jud's efforts to get his "Plan" and ideas heard. Mr. Sweetman is from Ireland.

I don't think that Jud knows my last name. Often, a person's last name points to a particular culture or ethnicity. Like Larry, I grew up in a culture dominated by Irish music, conversation, customs, etc. When Jud called said that the Irish represent the most Neanderthal of people, Larry and I couldn't stop laughing.

Why doesn't ESP work on the people we really want to contact?

Today I was looking at an object that someone had given me last year. I was thinking that I'd like to contact this person so that I could finish the art piece--a linocut. This person has a press. We went out once, and I think we could hit it off as friends--but not in the romantic sense.

So, of course, I was just thinking about this person at noon today (I had the day off for "end of the semester"--believe me, I'm not complaining!!!). I got home from yoga class tonight, happily groggy, to see that this person had sent me a mail today. I hadn't heard from him since Thanksgiving.

Now, my question is this: if I can think about someone and they call, especially someone I haven't conversed with in a long time, why can't I think of someone I just saw last week and have them call me?

Tonight I spoke with one of the major thinkers at Psychic Horizons about karma. She said that karma is made up of images and thoughts and actions that have to be gotten to, have to be centered upon and resolved. Fair enough, I thought. Perhaps there is more to this than my rigid brain wants to let in. It's tough that my non-frigid libido always gets in the way!!!!

Parce que je suis folle.

Last night I went to the ashram in San Ramon. It was so beautiful, the indigo-black sky dotted with stars, with Mars about 2 feet away from a nearly-full Moon.

It was fitting that we talked about astrology...Vedic Astrology. Our friend Mark checked out a book from Amma's library called Vedic Astrology without Tears. I spoke with Sadasiva about the Moon and Mars at dinner after the meditation. He asked me, "Are you feeling angry tonight?" I had to say, no, I wasn't feeling angry. I was just feeling confused because I couldn't meditate. All these memories from the past kept coming up--even Moises. I thought I had forgotten about him.

I asked Sadasiva if he had dated many women from the ashram. He said, yes, he had, and one of those women was at the ashram that evening. He said that Amma throws alot of karmic relationships his way. I said that I have had similar experiences. In 2002 I made out with a guy who was probably 19 or so. When Moises and I got together in 2005, he was 23. The woman Sadasiva had had a relationship with was younger than him also. She came by as he and I began standing up, and he was quick to stop her to talk with him.

Have I learned a lesson from this? I think it's his karma to be lost in the land of wanting a relationship based upon experience rather than appropriateness. I hope that all the relationships I've had have had some love energy--despite the painful karma--swirling among them.

Special Education, or, how much attention do you need?

I never complain much about teaching Special Education for the past 10 years. Tonight I was just recalling a time when, during an IEP meeting with about ten people present, I got up and walked out, crying. The emotional pressure was too much; I couldn't handle what the "therapist" was saying about this child with cerebral palsy. The therapist wanted to demit the child from services, and I completely disagreed.

It still happens now that a therapist will demit a child because, supposedly, the child is making no progress. Can I do that, too? Can I tell a parent not to send the child to school because no progress is being made? Whose fault is it?

There is constant attention which must be given to my students with severe impairments. Thankfully, some of them are learning how to use the toilet. But some of them still hit other kids and hurt other kids or refuse to walk or just lie down and scream.

It is my belief in bhakti yoga and Amma that helps me stay afloat in this turbulent ocean. Last year I had four paras, but two of them were out to stab me in the back every day. This year, I have only two paras and more kids. These paras are sweet and have great intentions, but we are understaffed. It is about time that I did something proactive about this situation. I am working too hard, and I have to tell someone who can help me. I already typed up an 8-page table on what all the kids do and what all the adults do to help them. This report was written in November. I still have not heard anything from the Special Education department.

It's ok to feel sorry for me. I do!!!

The Unicorn, or how high are you.

Tonight the Planet Glee show was really fun. We fixed the cameras and lighting, and I have been so happy that is Friday and I don't have to get up and do public service tomorrow. It's much more entertaining to do the show. I wish this could be my form of public service rather than trying to provide developmental instances for children with severe cognitive disabilities.

Nonetheless I was in a rare mood this evening. I brought a 4" squarish, pointed rose quartz crystal to keep on the desk to channel good, loving vibrations. My guests, Tobias from Total Care Massage and Sam from Sleeping Buddha Massage Therapy were all set; we were all relaxed. We were told it was air time, and I put the crystal on my forehead because I had a slight headache. I told the camera (the viewers, I guess--I don't assume anything!) that I was a unicorn with a headache. I also had a hood on which made me look like a milkmaid (the rainy weather has brought out the braids again).

We got a call almost right away. The caller told me I looked like I was high on something and that he could tell me what would be the best stuff to get high on. I got a little shy, but I said that I was high on Friday and whatever. We stayed talking for about 2 minutes. He said he was watching the show. That's the point, isn't it? I was enthralled with the exchange. Someone else suggested that I should have hung up on him. NO way!

Meanwhile, the rest of the show was fun. We had three more callers. Next Friday there will be a reflexologist on the show...all about feet!!!

I do miss jamming. I'm looking for musicians who can jam with me on the show. I put out a craigslist ad, and I got some good responses. The musicians want to hear my stuff. Let's put it this way: I'm good at faking it!!!

Venus is in Scorpio, or Planet Glee

I remember really liking the writings of Theodor Adorno. He was part of the reading list for a one of my courses in Marxist criticism at Berkeley. Somehow now he is reminding me of Kierkegaard, the either/or. Oh, I'm writing about my title for this blog. I wrote a paper on Adorno called 'Theodor, or the Adornos.'

Venus is in Scorpio now and for a while. Jupiter is in Sagittarius, which is a good thing. Some things can seem dark, but the idealim of a strong Jupiter can keep the boat afloat and more.

Meanwhile, tomorrow is another night of Planet Glee. We will try to fix the cameras to give the illusion that we are not in a fishbowl like in the other shows. My guests will be massage therapists demonstrating some techniques and best practices. Planet Glee is a call-in show. It's on channel 76 in San Francisco at 7 p.m. on Fridays.

Happy New Year to me.

I spent most of last week going to sleep early. Back to work, and I didn't want to be sleep-deprived given the weird emotional nature of the beginning of a new year. On my first day back to work, at 6:25 am, I was trying to pick up the striped kitten Pablo and he got skittish, his back paw leaving an almost 2" slice of cat claw in my index finger on my dominant hand.

But I stayed steadfast in my desire to return to work and do what I had to do. I'm glad I had my Elmo bandaids.

Meanwhile, I did the chance to see two films WHEN THE CAT"S AWAY (CHACUN CHERCHEZ LE CHAT) and THE BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA. I hadn't seen either film for almost three years. What do they have in common?

THE FUTURE IS UNWRITTEN

Joe Strummer, how I adored you. Your latest bio-documentary (besides RUDE BOY) is really impressive in its use of the medium of film and what it conveys about an artist who went through several incarnations until his early death at age 50. I remember hearing the news and thinking, "Oh, he's turned fifty--too hard to handle, I wonder." But no, although he met death when identifying his suicidal brother's teenage body, he never stopped talking about how being alive was what we all had in common. He died of a heart defect that had gone undiagnosed.

The film's documents the early life of John Mellor (Joe's given name by his diplomat father and Scottish mother) and how, after his brother's death, he continued on to be what he called a non-stop-talking "git." This git got bad grade except in Art. He could draw. Joe's drawings are interwoven in the film's rich fabric.

Pictures, people who knew him, music, all embellish this tale by the fire, as it were. One of Joe's last drawings was of little islands in a river, each with a fire that one sits by and talks. Many of the people who knew him well sit by these fires in different parts of the world. There are no subtitles identifying the interviewed. The members of his bands, The One-on-One-ers, The Clash, and Joe Strummers and Los Mescaleros needed no titles.

The exploration into his film work both as musician and actor are new. I remember the ...Hell film. One of my housemates was watching it on a summer afternoon in the living room. Usually, I didn't go into the living room, but I was drawn in by Joe's presence in the film. I was drawn into the Red Victorian today to see Joe again onscreen. Although I cried at times and at times didn't understand why he said and did things in this life, I will go back and see this film again.

The Confusion of Non-productivity.

Today was spent on the phone, at the laundromat and in cafes. The state of my papers in my room beckons for clarity. It's muddy in here! I save lots of images for future collages that I have yet to make. That's not all the paper that's lingering around. There are all the bills and receipts and stuff that I have no idea where to put. There is no room in my room. So, I put them in paper bags so that I may go through them sometime.

I almost titled this the "pleasure of non-productivity." At my job I have tons of papers that I have not looked at in years. I went through a box of them from 2005. I think I take great joy in not being organized. There is something uncomfortable about being too neat with the paperwork. Or, maybe I've become too used to spontaneity.

In my social life I would like to see more plans made. I tend to let things be decided at the last moment. It's my sleep schedule that gets in the way; it really dictates my days and nights. I'm so glad to be on vacation and to think that I don't have to get up at 7:00 am tomorrow. Lucky!!1