My Musical Education

I have been working on a new something. I'm not sure if it'll be a book, short story, or simply remain in the woodshed. It interests me though. It has some of my favorite themes: teenagers, grunge, Delaware, mid-90's, unrequited love, and rock 'n' roll. I have never written about these subjects. I'm curious to see what will happen.

Sholeh was standing by locker 712. She was the first grunge girl I knew in high school. We would hit her basement for my musical education. I would sit on the sofa fidgeting, while she played her latest 7 inch. "This is Yo La Tengo," she would say. "This is the Screaming Trees!" I was ready to die. There was nothing I liked less than discordant guitars. The concept just didn't make sense to me. I had been raised on "Thriller," Persian pop, and the beauty of Trapper Keepers. There was no way a scathing Fender Strat was going to make me jump through hoops, no matter how cute Sholeh or her gaggle of wannabe music critics were. I just waited for it to be over, with my arms crossed and a half-smile where a scowl would have felt more comfortable.

I couldn’t imagine the mix tapes Sholeh gave me being anywhere else. They were personal anthems made just for me. If the labels were stained or a word misspelled, it only made the tape that much more valuable. I even remember my duped version of “Kerplunk.” Sholeh had written ‘Gren Die’ in place of ‘Green Day.” She said she did this on purpose, because I didn’t think “masturbation had lost its fun,” or that Billy Joe would amount to anything more than a hackneyed version of Op Ivy. At least that's how she painted my wounds when Green Day became the #1 band in America.

We went to our first grunge concert at The Yellow Bar in Wilmington. It was this hole-in-the-wall, with 6 tables, a Ms. Pac Man machine, and plastic cups to hold every drink. Big Chuck, the bouncer and resident drunk, was on hand to give us a proper once over. He reminded me of one of those Western bandits up to no good that I had seen with my Dad on our Sunday Marathons back in Jersey. I guess that was why I stepped up to the guy ready to kill. I figured that was what it took to get us into one of these places. I was wrong. Big Chuck took one look at Sholeh and waved us in like we were meant to be there all along and it had simply slipped his mind to let us in sooner.

Sholeh had raved about The Spinning Idiots for a week and a half. She called them “Godly” and “sweaty.” Two of her favorite words to describe a band we had to see before they played the Spectrum and left Delaware behind. Of course, this was the usual talk about the "local scene." Bands were always on the verge of something bigger. Everywhere else in the world had a bunch of 10’s compared to the Small Wonder's 11’s right around the corner. It was simply a matter of time. I didn't argue the point. I wasn't much of a raining parade in my youth. It wasn't until our weekly outings had ended and grunge was a Hollywood motif, that my cynical side turned the plaid it was meant to be.

Sam's Gyup Sol

Well, I braved the far corner of town today. I went into a small restaurant and ordered some Samgyeopsal. I'm not particularly found of pork, but this is the only thing I know how to say in Korean. The restaurant owners were quick to accommodate me. They set-up the charcoal grill in the center of the table. Then they brought over chopsticks, a spoon, some jalapeno-infused-cold soup, pork, spring onion slivers, sprouts with a spicy, crushed red pepper, kim chi (fermented cabbage), garlic, lettuce, sesame leaf, and the most scrumptious, raw spinach. The latter is what I ate like it was going out of style. Our friendly patron seemed to notice this and brought me heaps of spinach as soon I finished. Man, people eat out here! I had two plates of Popeye's secret weapon and was ready to meet up with Olive Oyle and cuddle. I swear! I didn't even make a dent. There were heaps of pork, lettuce, and the rest, just lying there. I felt bad about it. But what could I do? Language prevented me from saying "less" or "to go." All I could say was was "thank you."

"Kamsahamneda," I said. "Annyang-ka-sayo."

"Annyang," the patron smiled.

Maybe "to go" and "half order" will be my new words for tomorrow. Of course, finding a Korean dish I actually like would be the best step forward. The only problem is knowing what that is. It's definitely going to take some exploration. Maybe, a nice Korean boy or girl can point me in the right direction. Maybe it will be me. I could pretend to be a world class food critic. I'll even write reviews. Hmmm. Who knows? Time will tell. For now, it's Almond Flakes and Samgyeopsal.

American Painting

Well, today was eventful. I finally got some paints. Two tubes. One light green and the other a zinc white. In the middle of work, I got the idea to document what I was doing. Then I just started having too much fun making this short.

Jean Dubuffet at Deok Su Gung Palace

Well, I did it. Today I braved public transport in Seoul all by my lonesome. I hitched onto the 109 Bus, and just rode it all the way to City Hall. Nice and easy. I even remembered my Korean word for thank you when I stopped off to pick up my Korean Alien Card:

Immigration Officer: Annyung ha say o (hello)
Pirooz: Annyung.

Officer walks off and returns with my passport and card.

Immigration Officer: Kam sa ham ne da (thank you)
Pirooz: Kam sa hum ne da.

It felt good to accomplish this little task on my own. I even decided to celebrate by going further into town to catch the Jean Dubuffet exhibit at the Deok Su Gung Palace. It was a beautiful exhibit. I was surprised at how Jean managed to change his style, so much over the years. It was almost as if his earlier works were just practice. At least that was my instinct. It wasn't until I could read about him in English when I got home that I found out I was right (his bio) - homeslice didn't fully commit to painting until the latter years of his life. I find that fascinating. What makes someone go after their dreams at such a late stage in their lives? How could they have lived with their art without doing it for so long? I'd like to know more about this Dubuffet. Especially since so many of his paintings speak to me.

This one here was my favorite. I love the style. He predominantly paints in red, blue, and black. That's it. The shapes are fairl free form. He just follows the thread where it will go, and then he'll outline a figure, or re-shade something in another color to create that shimmer effect just under the top color. I also noticed his use of the patterned lining. It was very similar to my abstract creations. Create a shape and then shade by drawing horizontal or vertical lines. As you lay them on top of one another it creates a bit of movement and texture. I'll demonstrate a bit below.

Anyway, I dug his work. It was very beautiful. It also kind of overshadowed Deok Su Gung Palace for me. I'm pretty shallow like that. I'll take art over historic sites anyday. I don't know. They just don't interest me. I thought it was cool to watch the changing of the guard and all, and hear all the folks in the orchestra play their conch shells, but I'm just way too into Dubuffet to mind that much. In fact, I got a bigger kick out of this old, Korean guy who watched me watch the procession. He just smiled at me and nodded. I nodded back. I could tell he was digging that I was looking at something he saw everyday of his life. There was a pride there - in his people and culture. I am glad I got to see that in his eyes.

I am also glad I got to see a pretty Korean girl giving me the eye when I got to the crosswalk. It caught me totally off guard. I was just standing there smoking a Dunhill Light (don't ask!), when I feel these eyes burning down my viddies. Next thing I know, my body does the old heave ho and turns around to see what's up, and there's this cute, Korean girl pretending she's not looking at me. That cracked me up. I was just like, "Oh, yeah, what's up?" Then I had to pee, so I walked around for a good while, before I decided peeing was way overrated, and decided I'd make it back to my cozy little space station of an apartment at Duksung before I believed in it again.

Thank You

So another day in Korea is flying through my heart. I can't say that I feel particularly on key with the whole change, but I don't feel completely outside the loop either. Right now it's just a strange sort of shake of the mind. It rattles me for a bit then comes to a standstill. Questions come about what I'll do. Is it a painting? Another record? A comic book? Is it time for a novel?

I have no idea. There is too much shaking going on to see what's in the globe. The best that I can muster is a few rituals to create normalcy for my body. This means that running is now a key thing in my life. If I can make it to the soccer field, it's a good day. Endorphins and me are good like that.

If I can keep to this regiment, things will be kosher in a few. Then I will be able to see more clearly. In the meantime, I went out yesterday to see about painting supplies. I was curious what my heart would create. So far, it's the strange hieroglyphs you see in the pic above. I have no idea how it will turn out, but I'm excited to see how I will create the right texture for my sense of aesthetics on paper and wood.

I haven't painted on wood since my 2000-01 painting year. It will be interesting to see what I can muster. If the paintings keep coming, then I will stick with that for a while.

In other news, I will be buying my first electric guitar tomorrow. Word is on the streets that there's a place where I can get one for about a hundred bucks at some warehouse. At least that's what one of the musicians from Kim Chi Cowboys, an American ex-pat band, told me.

"Cort is a good Korean guitar," one of the members told me. "Just go to Dobong Gu station. There's a great warehous on the second floor."

I hope I can find it. Most of the time when I hear directions out here - it's in one ear and out the other. I'm not going to give up though. It's all about those baby steps. Today I will roll with "thank you." That's a good word in any language.

Korean Word a Day

Thank You = kahm-sah=ham-nee-da


Moksha says to give it time
"You're so American," he says.
"You'd hate Bombay," he says.
"You'll be a better artist," he says.

I'm not so sure.

I've been like this for a while.
I call it hide and seek.
All this looking.
Just to be found.

I figure most people got it easier.
They've got a someone or Coca Cola.
Kim Chi or a Hollywood salary.
Brad Pitt or Angelina.

Me, I keep looking.
Me, I hold canteens.
Me, I ride horses.
Me, I can't see.

Call it an indi-glo night stick,
A hooker's hope to quit,
A breakneck marine
who's running with the shits...


Honey taste on her toes.
Her lips the size of Gibraltar.
Loves herself in a canyon.
Turns barbwire into halters.



Walkie talkies side by side on a window by the cupboard.
He holds himself like a curtain.
moves in the night.
Camera operator
pans left to the fridge and dies.
A balloon rises alone.
It's epigram sung by children on walkie talkies in space.


Epigrams sung by children on walkie talkies in space


They held their breath.
They listened for aliens.


At two 'o' clock the next day, a Priest washed his clothes in an old, tin tub by the Church...

How You Doing Mr. Tangerine Man?

Things are moving nice and easy in Korea. I've got my apartment, Battlestar Galactica, and tangerines. These are the 3 things to make any world travel go flawlessly. I know some of you might need a bit more in life, like donkeys or styrofoam, but I'm very content. I might brave other amenities like running water or 2 dollar hookers in the future, but for now, tangerines and a little BG is just what the doctor ordered.


My Korean is a bit rusty. I'm talking railroad spikes here. All I have been able to muster is "O D A O," which means "Where?" It will definitely come in handy, but I'd like to have a bit more in my repertoire. Maybe some "hello's" and "how you doing's?" would fit nicely. I figure a word a day will be the quota, so to meet today's thread I will work on just that.

Word of the Day:

Hello. How are you? - OR - An-nyo'ng-ha-se-yo?


I am eating a tangerine right now.

"Baby, Lets Just Get a Drink"

I can't get over the smells. They're so different. I know that half the reason for this is the Korean's cooking ingredients and their famous barbecue-at-your-table-with-no-ventilation restaurants. Jim is absolutely gaga for these culinary experiences. He loves the grilled pork laid on a leaf of lettuce with sprouts and pickled onions. He marvels at every bite: "Oh, Pirooz," he raises his hands in exultation, "Look at this! Look-at-this!"

I do my best to hold my chopsticks correctly. I gently lower them to the raw beef on a metal plate by the grill. I squeeze the vice ever so slightly.

"No!" Jim shouts. "No, no, no."


"I don't want you to get sick."

I look at him with Bambi eyes.

"It's raw meat," he tells me. "You could get a mouth fungus."

"Mouth fungus?"

"Disease," Jim says gravely.

I put down the chopsticks. I make a mental note to never touch anything meat-like with chopsticks again.

"You got to watch out," Jim warns, as the waiter offers me a fresh pair. "You don't want disease."

Jim points to the thongs in front of him. I use them to pick up a clump of raw beef in my best Operation (the game) facsimile, and put them onto the hot grill. The spices waft up with the smoke and tingle my nose.

"Hey!" Jim shouts suddenly. "What are you doing?!"

SY, Jim's girlfriend, a native Korean, is using her chopsticks to pick up the raw beef and put it on the grill.

"Di-sease," Jim enunciates. "You'll get sick."

"Oh, please," SY waves him off. "I've been doing this all my life."

"See?" Jim points to me. "The Koreans just don't care. She could get sick, but she doesn't care."

I laugh silently to myself. This has got to be the cutest couple on the planet Earth. I have met couples who ended up happy because they were so well matched, but I have never seen a couple that is so different but exactly right for one another in every way.

"Jim," SY says. "Why are we going to go drink Makkali?"

"Because I said so."

"Why don't we ask Pirooz what he wants to do?"

"Because I want to go drink Makkali."


"Okay, okay," Jim resigns. "What do you want to do, Pirooz? Do you want to go to some boring bar that you can go to any time or do you want to experience traditional Korean food and drink Makkali?"

"I am open to anything," I tell him with a chuckle.

"Okay," Jim nods affirmatively. "Makkali it is!"

"Jim," SY grimaces. "You can't decide everything. Remember Pirooz is here for a whole year. We talked about this. You have to slow down. You can't do everything in one day -"

"No," Jim interrupts. "All in one day!"

"Jim," SY ignores him. "You can go drink Makkali another time. Why don't we go to an American bar?"

"Because I want to take Pirooz to drink Makkali."

Now, ordinarily, I could watch this display of love for any number of hours. I wasn't about to though. I was ready to walk around. I also wanted to get away from the smell of burning pork.

"SY," I say. "I've got a way that you can make Jim do whatever you want."

"What's that?"

"Well, first, you hold the back of his neck. You stroke his neck. Then you reach over and kiss his neck 3 times. Then say, 'Baby, lets just go get a drink. Then we can do whatever you want.' "

SY is all about it. She strokes Jim's neck. She whispers in his ear: "Baby, lets get a drink. Then we do whatever you want."

Jim laughs. He seems a bit amazed, but the technique has done its job. "Okay!" he shouts. "That works for me. American bar it is."

"Oh, yay!" SY claps her hands.

We all put on our jackets and head out into the cold, Seoul night. I walk ahead of the doting couple. There are hundreds of people on the narrow streets. I watch a motorcycle fly past. It careens half a foot away from me, barely missing a flock of Korean girls arm in arm and four abreast. They giggle as they walk past. I tip my hat like any American cowboy.

Sherlock Pomes: Graffiti in Korea

Today I watched some Korean boys spray paint the words "Dickies" and "Nike" in blue aerosol on one of Duksung University's pristine, red bricked walls. It struck me as so innocent and perplexing. Why would they spray paint Nike and Dickies? What do these words represent for them? Is it a brand of shoes the children support or wish they had? Are they saying something about the University? Do they simply want to imitate American culture?

I find these questions fascinating. I will have to do some investigating.

Wild Goose Chase

Today was a mad goose chase to find a phone. Apparently, it's become a necessity, because I can't enter my building without phoning the guard (the school has yet to have a proper intercom or door bell system); not something I'm particularly happy about. But what can I do? That's the way it is. I am not going to blubber. I'm just going to accept the reality that a phone gets me out of the cold and into the building. So with this very logical frame of reference, I left with Damian and Jim to the KT phone store for foreigners.

It was exciting to be outside of my 10 block comfort zone. I kept looking at the stores. The hundreds of billboards I couldn't read. The people. The way they dressed. My God, their clothes! You wouldn't believe it. So charming!! I mean, I'm no Michael Koors or anything, but I could use a couple little outfits like that. Especially the teddy bear hats. Most of the kids had them. I wanted one too.

"They were the rage last Winter," Damian explained. "Everyone had them."

"I like that they're pink," I told him.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I've thought about getting one myself."

"Man," I pat Jim on the back. "Can you imagine me rocking L.A. in the Summer with that pink little doo hickey? I'd be the bomb!"

"Yes," Jim smiled. "You would."

Jim smiled for a bit after that. I'm glad. He seemed to be ready for a nap or food. (You can tell this about friends you've known for years. It's like a Spidey sense.) Luckily, there was a fried squid vendor closeby. I had us all in squid heaven in a matter of minutes. It was the least I could do. And besides, if I didn't feed these two, hungry teachers during a wild goose chase in my honor, I was pretty sure I would be eaten or beaten for lack of nourishment.

"Don't go into the store and say "What's up? Do you speak English?" all loud like that. It'll make people less likely to help you out, if they can," Jim warned after we had no luck at our third mobile store. "You got to be soft."

"I'm just being me, Jim."

"Yeah, I know. But you got to be softer."

That's the strangest thing I have ever heard. I am not one to argue though. If talking softer is going to help accomplish my mission for a phone, then I'll be softer. I have no problem with that. Of course, I know deep down my heart will come through any misaligned communication, and that if I truly want to make this year fine and dandy learning some Korean language would serve me best of all.

Tonight will be my chance. I hit the town with some students. I wonder what I'll learn. I'll tell you tomorrow.



P.S. Obviously, we didn't get the phone. A guy from KT (a Korean phone company) said to come back on Friday. That sounded shady to me. But call me "leaf." I fall when I'm supposed to.

The Space Station

I survived my second day in Korea. It was fairly simple actually. I spent most of the day parading around for my new online course and then ate some scrumptious barbecue with Jim. From what I can tell these are the elements of your typical day as an ESL instructor. It's all about the free time. And there's so much of it. I think as the days go by I'll get a great head start on organizing my classes; put a dent into my little writing experiment; and venture past my 10 block radius of comfort.

Since I am all about streching my boundaries, that is exactly what I will be doing tomorrow night. That's right. You guessed it. Tomorrow I will be accompanying some Korean students for a night on the town. I am not really sure where we're going - I have no idea what they're saying - so I figure it'll be just fine and dandy and lots of laughs. Well, more like four. The rest of my chuckles are reserved for my living situation. Did I tell you I am the only person living in this new building they've built for teachers? It's quite funny. I look out over the Korean skyline and there is not a single sound. I'm talking nothing here. No helicopters, kids screaming, sirens, nothing. It's just the hum of the fluorescent bulbs above me.

The whole scene makes me feel like I'm in some futuristic space station. And, in fact, some of the teachers have joked that this living situation is very much like one.

"We work in the same building we teach at?" an instructor guffawed. "That's a space station."

"Mmmm," I said. "I do like space stations."

And that's the truth. I have no problem teaching where I live. I have nothing to hide. I'm me. Through and through. If someone wants to keep tabs on what I do, then that's their business. I'm living mine. I'm an astronaut. There are repairs to be made. Solar panels to reconfigure. I don't have time to waste when I'm manning my very own space station.

Don't Cross Your Chopsticks!

I'm in South Korea. The flight took a good long while. I was ready to explode at the halfway point, but managed to keep my cool by watching "The Departed" three times through. It was a pretty good movie. It made me want to act and be in movies, so that's saying something.

As for this very moment, I'm in the faculty office at Duksung University. Everyone is so kind and generous. There are folks from Canada, Arizona, New Zealand, you name it. They are all making me feel very much welcomed. I am glad about that. I am also glad Jim is here to guide me through everything. He has been so fantastic from my initial conception of this trip to the very present nitty gritty of how to move, be, and dance in the Korean culture.

Last night Jim and SY, his girl, took me to this nice place for Korean barbecue. It was very different from back home. I mean in L.A. you're lucky if you get a waiter to show up twice during your meal. But here in Korea, they are all about being personable and helping you do everything. It was great. As soon as we were seated the waiter was rushing over tray after tray of interesting little dishes.

"Don't cross your chopsticks," Jim told me. "You want to position them so that only one does the movement."

I laughed at Jim. So did his girl.

"I do it whatever way I want," she told us.

"It's better this way," Jim explained. "You get a freer range of motion."

I took Jim's advice and was able to get the mushrooms off the grill. I was very impressed. I also figured that Korea would be a breeze after that. I mean how difficult can it be. Just don't cross your chopsticks! That's all you need!

"I'm pretty sure I'll have Korea down in 2 weeks," I boasted.

Jim and SY just laughed me off. Then I got a kick out of my joke and started to giggle in my head. I can be funny like that. Especially after the jet lag. Something
Jim described as having a constant pressure on your head that'll make you feel funny for a while.

"It's going to take a week," he reassured me. "Then you'll be fine."

I'm sure I will be. I'll talk to you in a bit. Jim just got us some Papa John's.

The Fiddle

나는 땅콩을 좋아한다. 나는 또한 바이올린을 좋아한다. 너는 위기를 들 수 있는가? 너가 운이 좋으면 그것은 너를 이동할 것이다.

So Long, Farewell, Alvetazahn, Good night!

나는 나를 좋아한다. 진실 이다. 너는 나의 손을 이끌 싶는다. 나는 지구로 가고 있다. 나는 보유 달 이다. 영원한 조각달.

Heading Out

It was a great soiree last night. Thank you to everyone for all the wonderful emails, goodies, and best wishes. It was a thrill to have such a great send off. Please stay in touch through iM or ichat. My AOL screen name is burtkristbaum. I am a world famous paleontologist and explorer. I write comic books, head the Geo-Division of the POA, and will be taking a trip to a place you might know...


Letter 8.704
Re: The Real Wizard

Dear P.,

It’s the Kid. The real wizard with words. Just wanted to let you know I talked to FW about the book. I told him I had better things to do. That pissed him off. Got him talking numbers too. I haggled until I saw his ears go red. That’s when I knew I had him. Told him we were going to do things our way. No choking the canary or nothing. If it came out stiff, like, “What the hell they talking about?” That was fine with us.

He didn’t like that. Didn’t say so either. Figured he was still gagging on the digits. Told him to call me when he remembered how to speak canary. Then I bolted. He never called or nothing. Just wanted to let you know.

Whiskers and Kittens,

The Kid


Letter 2.456
Re: Mary

Dear Kid,

Thanks for your letter. What can I say? You’re a real wizard with numbers too. I’ll talk to FW. I’m sure he’ll go for it. He knows how good you are.

I’m at the hostel. Come stop by.

Warm Woolen Mittens,


Letter 2.421
Re: Chump 6.12


Start the book with a crossword. That’ll get people really into it. Then you can have some poems. I’ll work on the crossword. It’ll have all the good words. The ones you need. You know the ones.

Catch Ya,

The Kid

P.S. I got me a bad case of whooping crane. Some bum on the 6.12 tried to pull me for a chump. I settled him quick though. Here’s a poem about it.

“Chump 6.12”

Try to play me?
Ain’t no way.
No way.
I got me a clean grill.

Try to flip me?
Ain’t no way.
Not today, babe.
I got me a silver tooth.

Try to cheat me?
Ain’t no way.
I seen it all.
Got me some magic.

Turn bread into butter,
Bees from a queen
Shucks, I shook it.
Now I’m clean.

Got me a clean grill.
Got me a silver tooth.
Got me some magic.
Shucks, I shook it.
Now I’m clean.


Lucid Dreaming and Analysis

"Part One"

I am in a dorm situaiton of some sort. There is a child in a group shower. I have to use the restroom and ask them to leave. They do not. They squat over the non-existent toilets and seem to be slightly retarded like the kids in the film Gummo.

Frustrated at not being heard, I exit the bathroom into the arms of one of my childhood bullies. He is crying and very sad that I will be leaving for Korea. I tell him it will be for a year, and that seems to calm him down.


"Part Two"

I exit the dorm and walk down the street. It is a city like San Francisco. There are lots of hills and old, townhome duplexes side by side. I walk down one of the hills to meet up with one of my brothers for a bite to eat.

Once inside, I am accosted by one of the waiters, who knocks into me by accident. I tell him not to worry about it, and give him a gentle pat on the back. I ask him where te bathroom is. He tells me to go see Crystal.

I go to Crystal's office. The waiter obviously thought I was trying to get a job, because it's the manager's office. I tell Crystal, a very masculine woman, that I was looking for that the bathroom and leave.


"Part Three"

Back outside of Crystal's office, I sit with my brother at a table. He has an Ahi tuna sandwich in front of him. He says it's wretched. I take a bite of it. It tastes fine to me and I tell him so.

He doesn't respond. He follows some waitresses into a back room, where he is hooked up to a futuristic device that pumps crystal meth into a person's veins to create vision alteration.


"Part Four"

The POV of the dream is now my brother's after vision alteration. I see the entire restaurant and I am confused as to why each person as a set of numbers and colored, concentric circles above them. It takes me a few moments to realize that the futuristic device has given my brother the ability to see what each person is in one glance. He is very upset to have this gift.


"Part Five"

I am in a supermarket - magically transported. I am walking the aisles, when a British woman approaches me with a dog that looks like Benji. She tells me he is fully trained and available for sale.

When I quesiton her about the extent of his training, she tells me that I could walk up and down the aisles of the grocery store, and even walk right up to food scraps, without Benji making even the slightest move.

I am very interested in the dog after hearing this and ask the price. She tells me it's 120 pounds. I decide to ask for 50. She balks at the idea, but then I get very big (in size, as if growing angry), and tell her that the dog is old and ask when Benji dogs live to, and is she taking advantage of me, yadda, yadda, yadda.

She backs down and agrees to sell the dog for less.


"Part Six"

I am walking outside. A goat nips me in the butt. Then a pelican ambles past me. Suddenly, a penguin. Then, to my amazement, I look up at the sky as every bird and animal you can imagine - including penguins! - are flying across the sky.


"Part Seven"

I wake up.


What do you think it means? I'll give my take in a bit. Right now I'm going for a cup of coffee.

Thursday Night Soiree

Things are all set for my flight to Korea. I will be leaving on Sunday, the 14th and arrive at 6PM on the 15th. All that's left to do is say goodbye to all you amazing people. For those of who have time, we will be having a potluck/soiree on Thursday night at The Fortress of Solitude around 730PM. Bring goodies to drink and munch on. I am sure we'll have a Slipshod session and other surprises. For those of you who won't be able to make it until later, just give me a call on my cell, and I'll let you know where we might end up afterwards.

Bonjourn Princepessa!

P to the Hizz A

Helena Keeffe's "The Past Is Over"

Helena Keeffe put out a call for folks to write a forgiveness speech for President Bush. Several students from Rooftop Elementary accepted the challenge. Click the link below to hear impersonator, Jim Meskiman, put these children's words to the test.

The Past is Over

I spend most of my time walking the Hollywood streets. I get stopped in my tracks by creaking trees, or racoons making their way through heavy brush. I have even had a few stand-offs with coyotes who clamber down from the Hills. Each time I have these moments, I ask the Moon if one way is better than another, if I am listening to my heart, if I am in line with the Soul of the World. And each time I expect a voice, my heart beats loud enough for an answer. So with my heart in my hand and the unknown in front of me I step forward and continue to listen.