Thursday, April 30, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Imperfection
I want to make perfect things. I want to make perfect zines. Maybe I have to make a lot of imperfect riff raff until I hit gold and start making perfect things. But it seems perfection is something that would always be there. Perhaps I will make imperfect zines forever. I am trying to finish my zine today and I feel like it's sucking big time.
Ev
There is a French study group that meets Saturday at 1:30 in Building Number 3 on the Redmond COCC campus. This Saturday, for the first time, I went and was pleasantly surprised to meet a lively group of french speakers; one of them, Eve (pronounced Ev) an Alsace native who both in French and English revealed an interesting timeline dating back from World War II.
To be in Alsace during WWII would be like the pen that writes the history books, being right in between everything. Alsace, a north eastern region in France borders German and Switzerland. Her house in (or near) Strasbourg, she said, was occupied several times by officers and soldiers of Germany, America, and England during various sieges of the war.
"The Germans were the most polite," she commented. They had occupied her home near the end of the war, taking half the house to themselves and their operations. "They knew the war would be over, they were all drafted soldiers, didn't have much a stake in the war." The handsome Americans loomed tall over her and asked her mother where she slept at night. "My mother hid me. I was 14. She hid me in a room at the top of house." The Americans ruined the leather with their careless tossing about of equipment and "pissed in the flower pots."
Her whole life she wanted out of France almost marrying an attractive Brazilian man but taking to Egypt with an Arabian, quickly learning Arabian with her "bons oreilles." Ultimately, following a divorce and working as a nurse in Egypt (the second but closest tier to a prostitute she hushed to me in French and then realizing I didn't comprehend a word translated into English).
Ultimately, without telling the go-between story she ended up in America married to her own handsome American.
Eve speaks four languages; Arabian, German, French, and English. All, in most likelyhood, with absolute perfection. Did I fall in love with Eve? Yes.
To be in Alsace during WWII would be like the pen that writes the history books, being right in between everything. Alsace, a north eastern region in France borders German and Switzerland. Her house in (or near) Strasbourg, she said, was occupied several times by officers and soldiers of Germany, America, and England during various sieges of the war.
"The Germans were the most polite," she commented. They had occupied her home near the end of the war, taking half the house to themselves and their operations. "They knew the war would be over, they were all drafted soldiers, didn't have much a stake in the war." The handsome Americans loomed tall over her and asked her mother where she slept at night. "My mother hid me. I was 14. She hid me in a room at the top of house." The Americans ruined the leather with their careless tossing about of equipment and "pissed in the flower pots."
Her whole life she wanted out of France almost marrying an attractive Brazilian man but taking to Egypt with an Arabian, quickly learning Arabian with her "bons oreilles." Ultimately, following a divorce and working as a nurse in Egypt (the second but closest tier to a prostitute she hushed to me in French and then realizing I didn't comprehend a word translated into English).
Ultimately, without telling the go-between story she ended up in America married to her own handsome American.
Eve speaks four languages; Arabian, German, French, and English. All, in most likelyhood, with absolute perfection. Did I fall in love with Eve? Yes.
Rob Brezny Free Will Astrology
Brezny once told me to create an initiation ceremony; so I spent the morning cleaning my house, giving away things I still wanted and fasting.
During a rough time last summer Brezny elected Katsushika Hokusai as my mentor, the artist who made woodblocks for the series of paintings "Views of Mount Fuji" (including the classic Japanese waves) who, Brezny claimed, "celebrated 60 births."
I wrote in my journal:
"How would Hokusai see the world continuously refreshed? How many views of Mt.Fuji did he make? 36 wood prints?" and I stared at the Views of Mount Fuji until my mind was clear of the fog and muck and once again produced inspiration.
Brezny once told me:
"You're a rebel creator longing to make the whole universe your home and sanctuary. You are a dissident Bodhisattva joyfully struggling to germinate the seeds of divine love that are packed inside every moment," and I smiled and shuffled my tarot cards feeling like teacher and a student.
Brenzy told me to eat my shadow. The shadow being all the "unacceptable aspects of ourselves that we dump into the unconscious mind." Since then I've been swallowing my shadow bit by bit- trying to eat away at the ugliness I see in myself.
For homework this week Brezny asked me to "go outside at night, make two fists, and punch the sky ten times while you announce, 'Hey God, listen up! I'm gonna fight for what's rightly mine!'" and I started a fight to take the controls back from God and into my own hands. Please note: I am doing so politely and graciously, with appreciation of the gifts. Do we have the stength to take what is rightly ours? I will see.
During a rough time last summer Brezny elected Katsushika Hokusai as my mentor, the artist who made woodblocks for the series of paintings "Views of Mount Fuji" (including the classic Japanese waves) who, Brezny claimed, "celebrated 60 births."
I wrote in my journal:
"How would Hokusai see the world continuously refreshed? How many views of Mt.Fuji did he make? 36 wood prints?" and I stared at the Views of Mount Fuji until my mind was clear of the fog and muck and once again produced inspiration.
Brezny once told me:
"You're a rebel creator longing to make the whole universe your home and sanctuary. You are a dissident Bodhisattva joyfully struggling to germinate the seeds of divine love that are packed inside every moment," and I smiled and shuffled my tarot cards feeling like teacher and a student.
Brenzy told me to eat my shadow. The shadow being all the "unacceptable aspects of ourselves that we dump into the unconscious mind." Since then I've been swallowing my shadow bit by bit- trying to eat away at the ugliness I see in myself.
For homework this week Brezny asked me to "go outside at night, make two fists, and punch the sky ten times while you announce, 'Hey God, listen up! I'm gonna fight for what's rightly mine!'" and I started a fight to take the controls back from God and into my own hands. Please note: I am doing so politely and graciously, with appreciation of the gifts. Do we have the stength to take what is rightly ours? I will see.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Best Thriftstore in Bend
Gold glitter pants, Wedding dress, Green sweater made in Scotland, Ancient Harlequin Romance novels, Black pleather purse, Christian literature and tapes. This and more can all be yours for less than $5 dollars. Enter the cherriest of thriftstores: The Discovery Christian Thriftshop: 1434 NW 4th St. It can be found off Newport Avenue behind the Discovery Christian Church (look for the white steeple) and is open Wednesday-Friday from 11AM-4PM. They also accept donations Monday between 9AM and 2PM.Boxes on the porch are free things (I once found a bunt cake mold) but I recommend looking through them on your way out rather than when you enter. Freshly painted and carpeted you will be greeted by children's clothing and toys as well as the sweet ladies of the Discovery Church. Tight racks of hokey women's clothing with a shelf of dated kitchen appliances on the left, the right with shelves arrayed with knick-knacks and must-have Precious Moments collectors items. Farther in the store two rooms branch off at a built in book case, to the right is .25 cent room and the left is it's more prestigious brother, the .50 cent room. A dollar will certainly equip you with a new outfit, five dollars and you are a bonafide king in these parts. Second-hand McDonald prizes sit alongside Billy Blanks VHS's all wanting homes and someone to love them (or get ripped glutes).
The Discovery Christian Church is a jackpot for microwave cook books and I once even found an Al Burian zine. You really never know. Proceeds are donated to the Shephard's House and other good places. Make it a point to go here. It's awesome. Also make sure to not mention how ridiculously low priced everything is. I have this theory that they simply are not aware that they are being robbed with such low prices. You can literally recycle a bagful of cans and buy yourself a penguin classic. There needs to be at least one cheap Thrift store in Bend. Lord knows the Goodwill has higher prices than its formaldehyde smelling neighbor; Wal Mart. Discovery Thrift store: Keeping it cute and cheap. Check it.
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