another scrap

I'm off to HK tomorrow; so, I want to take care of some loose ends. This is what the scrap says (source unknown):
The bottom line is that people want authentic and transparent relationships with other people.

Starting my list early

What to get me for xmas

Photos of my sister and mother biking in Ireland

You can tell she is my sister bc of the continual scone commentary.
Photos

How Fun!

Photos by Mitch Aidelbaum of Halloween at work today... including one of me.
Photos
Slideshow

Nightmare

I'm listening to the Talk of the Nation as I prepare for tonight's hanging at the gallery. The topic is The Anatomy of the Nightmare. The definition of a nightmare is a dream so bad it wakes you up. Sleep labs found that something like 70% of all dreams are negative.

Question everything. What is a dream? What is sleep and how is it different from being awake? Let's accept for a moment that being awake and being asleep are fundamentally the same. That is, they are both mechanisms through which we process our emotions and concerns.

In college, I was briefly involved with Brendan who had a very bad reputation. I didn't care, but I heard the stories from the gossips and speculated on how they correlated with the stories of his life that he told me. I won't go into the details. This is relevant bc one of his speech -isms was to call all kinds of his life experiences "nightmares". I found it aptly descriptive and began using it too.

A nightmare, then, is something that happens (in life) that is so negative it wakes us up. It throws us out of our patterns. It bring us consciousness to our actions and how they relate to our values. My relationship (lowecase "r") with Brendan was not a nightmare; my Relationship with Jared was. I've had a few jobs that were nightmares. I even had a living experience that was a nightmare once.

If 70% of all dreams are negative, dreams so bad you wake up are nightmares, and waking life isn't nearly so negative, maybe a waking "nightmare" isn't necessarily always negative. On the other hand, maybe we need a new word for that. I've had many positive life experiences that have caused me to "wake up" to my actions and how they relate to my values.

NPR: Writer Tracks Modern-Day Pirates in Malaysia

Weekend Edition Saturday, October 13, 2007
very interesting

NEWFLASH: Indecision Hurts

"It hurts to even think of those days. The damage we do by the hopes that we raise."
-Aimee Mann

I'm goofing around so far today when there are about a million things I should be doing. I should cut myself some slack. I work a lot.

I'm listening to my podcasts. Mr. Manners just reviewed how to handle holiday scheduling. He said something I found remarkable: it can be more hurtful to waffle and then not show up than to be clear about your plans from the beginning. Thinking about this, I realize it's true of many aspects of life.

Friends/Family -- Mr. Manners covered this.

Employment -- I used to apply for every job I found, and see how many offers I could get and play them off each other. A few years ago, I learned that this is inconsiderate to my potential employers who spend time reviewing my application and getting offers approved by their board (for example) without knowing my ambivalence. Likewise, it doesn't make sense for employers to interview me once and sometimes even twice when they still have a number of candidates under review. My time is valuable, even more so when I am consulting (either for myself or for a firm). Both employers and their applicants should limit their inquiries to only when there is real interest and seek out mechanisms to determine their interest (like tests or networking) before taking up each other's time.

Promotion -- Along the same lines, employers shouldn't put employees up for promotion unless they sincerely believe the employee will get it. I've seen this happen a few times, and in every case, it has led either to the employee leaving or to needing a great deal of damage control to keep them. Save everyone a lot of time and heartbreak and communicate your opinion/concerns up front.

Dating -- We all know that that period when a relationship is ending is the worst, much worse than before and after it. Likewise, I have wasted a lot of time (and missed other opportunities) thinking about boys who just "aren't that into me" but string me along (probably to "save my feelings"). Human nature is complicated, but wouldn't it be great if we could get to know each other as friends and see if a strong emotional/physical connection evolves? ...and see if there is potential for a deeper partnership with the person?

Housing -- I've even had the experience of being delayed by potential housemates not being clear about their level of interest in joining the household. In this case, like with employment, the risk is deeper bc basic human needs (money, shelter) are involved. (Altho the stakes aren't as potentially emotional devastating as the end of a relationship.)

In sum, humans are complicated. Future needs and feelings mysterious. But that's all that much more reason to act deliberately. Get to know people. Meditate and get plenty of sleep so that you know what you really think. Don't over- or under-express yourself. Respect people's time including travel time. Pay attention and remember your observations. Keep your eye on the big picture.

What's Coming Up

My last post was about the recent past. I have a few other past posts to process. However, right now I am very excited that yesterday I bought a ticket to visit Juliette and Guillaume in Hong Kong and registered for a woodcut class in December.

Music, Language, Art

My friends and I have been doing a good job of enjoying this City's cultural resources. Two weeks ago, we enjoyed the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival in Golden Gate Park. I went on Saturday and had such a good time, I decided to return the next day instead of sailing. We heard:
Michelle Shocked
Gillian Welch*
Los Lobos
Charlie Louvin
Hot Buttered Rum
Mekons -- interestingly sort of country punk
Dry Branch Fire Squad*
Jorma Kaukonen*
* indicates particular favorites

During the DBFS the Blue Angels kept flying overhead. The tall man improvised with this odd musical situation well in his monologue.

Last weekend, we did the Lit Crawl. We met first at Casanova as a woman read her personal travel essay about peeing in Antarctica. The room was very crowded; so, we dashed across the street and had a cocktail at Blondie's.

Next, Kristin wanted to hear the essays collectively titled "Girls Tell All" at the Beauty Bar. I found them unremarkable.

Finally, I thought it would be good for us to hear some poetry. At the Marsh, we heard poets read from "youth to beauty". I particularly enjoyed the first piece by a young man about his imaginary giraffe daughter and another later by an older man about "America". Of course, I didn't note down anyone's name tho I should have.

What's totally awesome about the Lit Crawl is the hordes of people who come out and run from venue to venue to hear other people's creative writing. I haven't felt like writing lately, and I only feel a poem coming on every once in while, but I came away from the event feeling inspired and good about my work. What makes a "writer", I guess, is that they write (regardless of quality or content). Not that I accept labels.

Sunday, we did the Bike Coalition's ride to the Marin Headland's Center for the Arts. I love that bike ride, and wished continually that I had remembered to charge my camera -- it was so beautiful. (I've been feeling rather frustrated with myself lately. I haven't taken an art-worthy photo in about a year, and many of ones I took a year ago I can't use bc of their resolution.) There, they have a smattering of "artists in residence" working on various interesting projects -- all ambitious, some remarkable. An example of my lack of commitment to blogging right now is that I didn't note any names.

I have a card from Danielle Nelson Mourning's show where she traced her ancestors in Ireland and took photos of herself simulating what their lives may have been like. She used large-format film on a "field camera". We discussed the unique nature of winter light. I love the idea of constructed self-portrait.

Questions Not to Ask Women

How old are you?
How much do you weigh?
Are you pregnant?

[This came up bc my birthday is soon. I gained weight in France. I am not pregnant.]

Alogny Vacation in Review

[I wrote this post a while back, but neglected to post it until now.]
The New York Century was the least pretentious bike ride I have ever been on – very few little outfits. Most people rode fairly clunky bikes (including me), wore cotton, while making that 100 miles look easy (which it was being flat). We did something like 85.

The whole competitive cycling thing irritates me. I mean, taking anything so seriously that you become gaunt and wear odd clothes is irritating. These people love New York. They love cycling. They don’t get all fussed up about it like the people in California do. Of course, I haven’t done any other east coast rides. So, I don’t have a sample for comparison.

I’m on the train from the country back to Paris for a couple final days… really just a day and a half if you take travel time and sleeping into consideration. I was there a week and a day, but it went by like a flash. I’ll post a photo of Alogny to give you an idea. I didn’t even have time to read. Nine of us + one baby stayed there – friends from grad school at Berkeley and their significant others. So, it was a lot of visiting and drinking wine on the patio. We rented bikes for the week to we could tootle around between castles and see the gorgeous country side. The area is perfect for biking – little roads, not much traffic, beautiful countryside, just enough topography to keep it interesting.

So, yeah, there was visiting, biking, walking (Keturah and I each even did a run), eating and drinking. Probably best illustrated in pictures (posted here).

My mom has 4 pet chickens… or had. Now, she has one. The second to last died the first night we arrived after a few days of illness. They are (or were) back with brown eyes, and they spend their days scratching and moving around higgledy piggledy. We tried to care for the one remaining chicken when my mother was away – but we were an inferior second.

After a few days of her being away, my mother returned and the chicken ran around with more enthusiasm than we’d seen yet. Who knew that chickens can tell people apart and feel fondness for particular ones. Last night, Ryan went out to put the shut the chicken door (she usually puts herself to bed, but the door must be shut to keep the foxes from eating her). Marshall followed, and shortly returned to inform us that the chicken had not put herself to bed. Ryan was poking around in the bushes where she usually hangs out, when I came outside to double check. Well, the end of the story is rather dull – she had put herself to bed, just not where they had thought she would be. We called Ryan back in from the shrubbery before we lost him to the foxes.

It was a vacation in the traditional sense of the word… not that I needed one. (Ryan said he hadn’t taken a real vacation in several years.) I live my life like it’s a vacation… in the sense that I stay relaxed and I don’t let myself get worn out. (I’ve tried the alternative, and it didn’t work for me. I’ll cite health reasons.) Now, I’m actually exhausted.

A Thought on the Role of Love

My friend Joyce said "I love everyone: my friends, my partner, my family, people I didn't even know. Then I realized, if I love everyone so much, why am I still unhappy?"

Another Poem I Particularly Liked

"On Faith" by Cecilia Woloch, from Late.

A Poem I Particularly Liked

"To the Man in a Loden Coat" by Deborah Garrison, from The Second Child.

Jessica

I gave an English lesson to a young French girl named Jessica. We talked about verb tenses. The “–ing” thing is very hard to explain, but I think she got it. She also didn’t know that Texas is a state and Brazil a different country. You can imagine. She said, “Brazil is in America.”
Me: yes, but it’s not in the United States
She looked confused. I tried to draw her a picture, but my geography of South America is not very good. Jean Pierre helped. I don’t think she knew that there was a North, Central and South America which seemed crazy to me. But if you think about it, young Americans don’t always know the geography of Europe.
Her foster mother was also my French family’s nanny. That’s how we know her. She’s very timid but at the same time obviously wants very badly to succeed. She just got a job working on costumes for Disney – a big opportunity, but she wants to travel, see the world. She hopes after some time she can work in their other offices. I meet a lot of very worldly people from other countries (I am reminded of Shanti saying when we were at Alogny “I sometimes forget that I am a very worldly person, and that other people aren’t like that.”). I do not often meet people like Jessica. She’s refreshing.

Notes on Velib

Ryan met with the people who run the Velib program in Paris and shared with us some interesting things he learned. He also promised to post photos which I will link to when they become available.

Paris is mostly flat which makes both it a good candidate for public bikes and the type of bike that would be needed relatively simple (you don’t need a lot of gears). In case of vandalism, they have to be indestructible. All working parts like the chain and the gears are covered up with metal casing. Even the nib to ring the bell has been replaced with a turning wheel with no parts sticking out that could break off. Each bike also has 3 gears, a basket, an adjustable seat, a small lock with its own key, and lights on the front and the back.

The system for maintenance is rather involved. If a bike is repeatedly checked out and then returned, its status changes to unavailable (indicated by a red light on the screen of the parking apparatus). Bruno told me that if you find a bike is broken, the guerilla why to indicate that is to turn the seat backwards. Tools and spare parts are kept in a compartment in the pavement under where the fleets of bikes are parked. More complicated maintenance and restocking of these compartments are handled by barge that floats from station to station along the river Seine.

The program employs 440 people – the equivalent of 280 FTE. Mechanics wear uniforms of maroon pants and black tops. All bicycle parts are identical because all bikes are identical. So, the inside of the barge is filled with piles of these parts: wheels, pedals, chains, handlebars, etc. The mechanics look very busy and professional, and the barge immaculate in Ryan’s photos. Most of the bike pods are near the Seine, but those that aren’t are served by trucks and are close to the edge of Paris anyway. I found it wise to check the chain, tires, and brakes before checking out a bike – many had a problem in one of those areas.

The cost to rent a bike increases over time to encourage turnover. The first 30 minutes is free. The next is one euro. The 3rd 30 minutes is 2 euros. The 4th is 4 euros, etc. If a person needs a bike for a day-long ride, they should rent it from a shop. These bikes are for transportation. I also heard that it was 150 euros charge if you failed to return a bike and 6 months in jail if you stole one. The night I had dinner with Tina and Bruno, Bruno took a bike so that his transportation wouldn’t cost anything. Tina and I paid for the Metro.

Like mine, Ryan and Ellen said that their experience using the bikes wasn’t perfect. They checked out one bike that was broken; so, they returned it. Then, the system wouldn’t allow them to check out another bike because it hadn’t yet recorded that they’d returned the first broken one for about 30 minutes (it supposed to take 5). Meanwhile, someone else checked out and then promptly returned that same broken bike indicating that they system had at least recorded that bikes return within its own parking system if not communicated that information to the other bicycles. After the second return, the light turned red and the bike recorded as out of circulation. If Ryan and Ellen had been in a hurry, they would have had to find another way to travel.

As with my experience, sometimes there are no bikes available. Tina said that a more common problem is having nowhere to park them once you have reached a popular destination. One time, they locked up the bikes and went for dinner waiting for a station to open up. I cost them ~3 euros.

Of course, I stood on the corner and counted bicycles. I found that slightly fewer than half of the bicycles on the road were Velib. I would like to assert that this indicates a doubling of the bicycle mode split, but Serge (Muriel’s boyfriend) said he got rid of his own bike (which he used to ride around Paris for transportation) when the program began. He said it’s easier to use the Velibs because you can take them just one way and use the Metro (or other mode) for the other leg of your journey due to rain or other inconvenience, and he doesn’t have to maintain them. His own bike always had a flat, and he didn’t know how to fix it himself.

I feel more confident asserting that the Velibs get people on bikes who may have never ridden one otherwise. I remember being amazed at how many bicycles were on the road when I visited shortly after the 1997 Metro strike. At the time, Juliette (a real parisienne) confirmed my observation that more people were riding for transportation.

But most of these people are not paying for the Metro, so doesn’t that cause a decline in public transit revenues? I don’t know, but I can cite a few advantages to the program:
• Improved public health
• Putting/keeping people/eyes on the streets – a friend recently posted to one of my carfree lists about how refreshing it was to see old ladies walking around Paris by themselves at night.
• Slowing traffic for all living things in the city to be safer.

Another important question on my mind is if this kind of program would work in the states. The Velib program does not provide helmets. Given the litigious nature of US society, I fear we would need to figure out how to provide helmets hygienically before a program like this would fly here.

My Velib Story in Pictures

Muriel and her boyfriend both have Velib cards (shown here on his apartment hammock). Muriel shows the card's back. He kindly lent me his card for the afternoon. (You can't use the bikes without a French bank card. Apparently this program is not for tourists.)

It took a while to find available, working bikes. We must have checked 5 or 10 different stations.



The first bike I checked out (shown) had no chain! The first bike I rode was broken too -- its front casing, fender, gear shifter and bell, but at least it was ridable. I learned to check the chain, tires, and brakes before checking out a bike. Even if you return a broken bike right away, it takes time before you can try another one.

Finally, we found working bikes!


Here in central Paris are all the bikes! We returned our bikes here for 5 minutes to avoid paying any rent -- the first 30 minutes are free. Muriel is reading Kristin's guide to Lost Paris.

This tree in central Paris was planted in 1601. We learned about it in the Lost Paris book.

We rode fast...

...all over central Paris.

Even after I dropped Muriel off at our starting point, I rode to the eastern-most station on the Metro-9 line before jumping on the train for the rest of the way home.

A Poem I Wrote Last Winter

I tried to go to bed tonight at 6:30 tonight
Because I felt so lonely
I wanted to split my ribs open with a fork
And parse out all the desires of my heart
For what I used to call unconditional love
But now I don’t know what it is
I used to call it support, companionship,
The wish to make another person happy
...to open my heart to them,
Not with a fork – but with something much softer
Like a spoon. To dish my disappointments out to them
Like pudding and to hold them in my hands
Just carefully – not dropping any
Knowing that disappointments are as precious
As the love we rejoiced after a light meal and a glass of wine.
They say that the heart is a sturdy organ
and considering the fragility of the human emotional system,
It’s representative organ should instead be the liver
Because the liver breaks apart with the lightest touch
Because the liver can really be damaged by living.
I don’t know about that – all I know
Is that I can feel my chest opening up – that I feel
The connective tissue of my ribs tearing;
and I think the liver is at the back of the body.
-Lilia Pilia, 2007

Photo from the plane of France

Paris Paris

I don't have much to report. On Wednesday, Audrey (who I know through Sultan) and I went to art galleries and then shopping. We both liked these paintings that looked like distorted photographs with bright colors. There was an installation in the Mexican Institute with hay on the ground and little red husk pods on sticks a few feet off the ground forming an s-shaped swarm. We liked that too.

She showed me outlet stores for et vous and Kookai clothing lines (I had found the Kookai one before), and I bought some things including a dress with little bicycles all over it. (Very exciting!) I could not find any wool tights. I wanted to replace the ones I bought when here 2 years ago but were never returned by a shameless borrower last year to whom I no longer speak.

I cooked chicken molé for the Boisseaus that night.

Yesterday, I met Jennifer, and we mostly visited and wandered around. She needed some art supplies at BHV. I was amazed at how easy she is to talk to. It was as if no time had passed; our conversation just flowed like water downhill. It didn't even matter if we were talking about loved ones, cheese or producing art. Then, she went to take her daughter from school to guitar class, and I wandered off in her posh neighborhood (the 16th). I found the merry-go-round I took that very successful photo of -- they've put a fence around it. I shot some certainly less successful photos of it.

I swang by Gare de l'Est for today's train ticket, Tina's to return her key and pick up a little towel I had left there, and then wandered rather too slowly to meet Gwen and his boyfriend Mathieu. We had a lovely café meal of salade and red wine and many good laughs.

I've been waking up in the night and sleeping late which I guess is no surprise considering the time change. If I can get myself to together in time, the plan for today is a walk to Chateau de Vincenne and then to the train to the country.